If It's Gotta End, Then Let It End In Flames
by At Some Actor's West Side Loft
Summary: An alternate ending to Journey's End. Donna reacts quite a bit differently to the news that she can't travel with the Doctor forever...or can she? Post J.E. rewrite. M for a self harm reference and possible smut. Reviews are always appreciated :)
1. Chapter 1

If It's Gotta End, Then Let It End in Flames

"Can I just have a few minutes to myself, just to think, before you…" Donna mimed pressing her fingers to the edges of her temple. The Doctor nodded mutely. She wrenched herself away from the center of the TARDIS and retreated to her room. "_Stupid Earthgirl," _Donna's inner voice ripped out savagely at her. "_You know you can't outrun this." _

But she wasn't planning on running for much longer. She retrieved a shot glass and a mostly full bottle of Jack Daniels from her cabinet, nearly bringing down several tea mugs in her haste. She fumbled with the top of the bottle and breathed a sigh of relief: She had gained a steady grip on the portal that would save her from Chiswick, from her bloody insufferable mother, from her existence that only served as a flawless definition of insignificance. To ensure she'd enter that portal, she ran to her bathroom, plucked her razor off the sink, and slashed three lines just above her wrist. She'd suffered worse injuries than that during her time with the Doctor-Heck, running into an ill tempered cat could cause the same effect. While she still had time, she needed to get closer to her life. She felt her pulse, and cherished its stolen value. The Doctor's value.

…

"_Well, I've given her a few minutes now…" _the Doctor groaned inwardly. His hearts, beating for Donna, kept him anchored. Then the moment was swept away like a house in a hurricane. Rose, Martha, now Donna…Jay Gatsby was right, you could repeat the past. For the Doctor, it wasn't worth repeating.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Doctor figured he'd hear tears again. Instead, when he knocked on Donna's door, he heard a hiccup, followed by a morose "Come in, Doctor." He entered and found the redhead slumped against the foot of her bed, her jacket stained with whiskey. A razor rested in a death grip in her left hand.

"Donna…what…what on earth are you doing?" the Doctor choked out.

A bemused, impish smile-a carbon copy of the one he'd given her so many times-played on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like I'm the one who knows better for once, doesn't it, Spaceboy?" She hiccupped again, then cackled. "Need a hand figuring something out, do you, Timeman?"

"Donna, please get up. I can't send you back in this state." he hardly wanted to be firm with the poor woman, but he couldn't linger with her for long. "_Doesn't she know this is hard for me, too?"_ He slowly unclenched his jaw, squatted down on his heels, and offered her his hand. She swatted it away and fixed him with a sad, pitying gaze. "You really don't get it," she whispered, shaking her head and stroking his cheek. "I'm not going back. Why d'you think I'm drunk as shit right now? Why d'you think there's blood running out my arm?"

Disturbed, frightened, he stammered, "I'm…I'm sorry, Donna. I'm so sorry-"

WHAP! The whiskey hadn't impaired her motor skills too much. "Oi! Answer the bloody question!" She snorted when she spotted the bloody dots on his face. "Ha, bloody question. Ain't that wizard."

He ignored her and pressed on. "Donna, I know you don't want to go back, and if I could somehow save you, I would. In two heartbeats. But there's no reversing the regeneration process." Living just to cheer her up now, he smiled and went on, "But we had the best of times together, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Wisps of her past caused a smile to flicker on, but it shorted out after a second. "And now you're taking them away!" she cried out.

"There's no other way to save you, I told you," he snapped back.

"Oh, you're _saving _me, are you," she retorted. "Boy, I just get the BEST sending off present, don't I? Poor Rose. She got the love of her life. That wretched Martha, marrying someone who actually loves her and working a job she likes. And I get…" Donna paused and gave the Doctor a look of longing. "Oh please, dear Doctor, enlighten this poor, dim witted earthgirl as to all the wonders of the world she'll encounter when she leaves."

"SHUT IT!" he roared. "Oh, you might have my mind in your body, but you don't know why I'm doing this. It's because I love you. Donna Noble. My best mate. I'm making you leave, yeah. Because I can't be the cause of your death, or I'll go even more mad than I am now. Hell, even after I send you away, I'll still be bonkers. Cause guess what? I try to pop in and visit you like I do with Rose or Martha, BOOM. You're dead." There was an aching fire in his eyes, a burn that comes when you realize death is sewed into your core and enshrouds all around you as a result.

Donna, still quite drunk, cracked up. "You…you love me? Plain old Donna? Oh, Doctor, you are very lucky I'm drunk or I'd slap you for trying to get a laugh out of me, saying stuff like that. Still might slap you," she joked. "_It's obvious he's just humoring me before he sends me back." _And the realization-_It's gonna be over-_barreled over her again, and her heart plummeted like a faulty elevator.

"If…" he started saying something and then frowned. "Hang on, you're still a mess, let's get you cleaned up." The Doctor went to Donna's bathroom and ran a wash cloth under warm water. He returned and gently scrubbed the blood off her arm. _"_Good thing the cut wasn't too deep," he muttered. "Anyway, what I was saying is: If you love someone, you have to let them go." He traced a finger over her blood and slid his fingers down her wrist.

"That's all nice to hear, Doctor, really." Donna's voice cracked as she continued. "I really never thought I'd mean that much to you. But you're still not getting this one little thing: I don't have anything if you let me go," she hissed.

"You'll have your life." His voice shook. If the Doctor was being honest with himself, he could surmise what she'd say next, and it would confirm that their trains of thought were two adjacent continental plates. They were shifting, overlapping, cracking, and they'd create nothing but destruction.

"Yeah, what a grand time I'd have, living with my mum again, working another temp job!" she screamed. "Don't you get it, dumbo? I don't wanna go back. Everyone else you've been with-they KNOW what you do. They REMEMBER. You show people how to make the world a better place, and they do that, in their own little ways, even after they've left you. Without even thinking about it. I won't do that. I'll go back to worrying bout what's on the telly or who shagged my best friend last week or if I should let that bloke at the bar buy me a drink. I'll be nothing. That's what you're gonna make me. Nothing." Tears rolled down her face, and she leaned into him. "I wouldn't be the same. That's why I was gonna be with you forever. I'm better with you."

"We're better together," he corrected her. He pulled her closer. One hand was resting on her waist, the other was scrambling to interlock with her fingers before she gave him a warning look or uttered the dreaded word: "HANDS!" She did neither.

"So let's be together for however long forever is," she whispered, and their voices joined to form words they'd never said before:

"Til death do us part."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A pregnant pause sucked up the air in the room.

"So…how long is forever, exactly?" Donna asked, hoping her words would dispel the uncomfortable silence.

"Well, not much longer, maybe a half hour," the Doctor shrugged.

"You wanna go anywhere?"

"Nah, I'm fine here."

Another pause. Then their thoughts overflowed and tripped over each other.

"Doctor, were you saying…" "Did you mean that…"

"You'd ever fancied or thought about…"

"Us being married?" He completed his companion's sentence.

Donna blushed. "I never told you this, but…well, right before I got beamed or drawn into the TARDIS, right before Lance turned to face me, I thought to myself, '_I'm about to see the man who's perfect for me.'_ And then I saw you. Course, didn't really think about that at the time, considering the circumstances, but…" her voice trailed off. _"Well, if by some chance the whole Time Lord meta crisis thing doesn't kill me, the embarrassment of this situation will," _she thought gloomily. "_Listen, Time Lord brain, why didn't you stop this earth girl from prattling on like that?"_

That part of her giggled. "_Thought it would be good for a laugh. I love being right." _

Meanwhile, the Doctor was slowly recoiling away from Donna. "So when you said you only wanted **A** mate? Did you mean that, or…" At that thought, he cringed like he'd just taken a swig of orange juice and then brushed his teeth.

She slapped him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Spaceman. I have NEVER wanted you to be anything more than a mate. No offense."

"No problem, the feeling's mutual," he answered, relief shining on his face.

"Oi, you saying I'm not good enough for ya?"

He laughed and darted away from Donna before she could give him another slap. "No, no, not at all, just saying I wasn't looking for that."

"Good." She bit her lip and confessed, "For all the teasing I give you, you aren't too bad looking, I s'pose."

He got up and fainted dead away on Donna's bed, feigning surprise. "A compliment from Donna Noble? Talk about a shock! Could've just told me my suit looked nice instead of giving me a kiss when you had to save me at Lady Eddison's manor," he grinned.

"Well, I was going for a big shock," she dismissed his joke, and her smile faded. "Speaking of shocks, what's it gonna feel like when I…erm…"

"I'm not exactly sure, cause you won't be regenerating, obviously. But the energy will be released the same way it is during a Time Lord's regeneration. It's sort of breaking out of the bonds of the body, and it takes the form of light for a brief period, and-"

Donna put a hand up. "Ok, enough with the alien science talk." She directed her next question at her shoes. "Will it hurt?"

"No, it just-" He had been on the verge of saying, "It just really drains you," but then realized that in Donna's case, it was a bit too true: The process would suck her life away. So he just shook his head, patted her hand, and answered quietly, "No. No, it doesn't hurt."

She sighed. "Well, if you're lying to me, there's not much I can do about it."

He winked. "Bet another drink wouldn't hurt."

"I knew there was a reason we're such good friends." She laughed and then frowned. "How long have I got?"

He wished his watch would freeze. "Three and a half minutes."

"Okay. Listen. There's a lot of stuff I want to tell you." She hesitated for a second, then rushed on. "Can you go see my gramps after and tell him I was happy til the end. Tell him he wasn't the reason I didn't come back." She was sobbing now, realizing nearly all the love she had in her was split between a madman in a box and another who longed only to see that man. It was gonna burn. "Tell him I never forgot about him. Always loved him."

"Course, Donna." He pulled her into a hug

"And as for you…" a watery smile surfaced. "Oh, we were bloody brilliant, weren't we?"

"Brilliant as the sun, moon, and the stars put together!" he shouted.

"Yeah," she laughed. "Now, Doctor, I just wanna make one thing clear while I have time. How long?"

"One minute. What is it?" he asked, barely able to stop himself from ending his question with _love _or _dear _or _sweetheart_ or any of the other clichés that would never do Donna Noble justice.

"If you ever start feeling all sentimental or sad about me like you did Rose, I'll make sure my ghost hunts the TARDIS down and haunts you til you stop. We clear?" She fixed him with a stern glare, but it dissolved as she started laughing.

He saluted her. "Yes, ma'am." They hugged tight. "_Only a few more seconds," _he thought.

"Goodbye, Timeboy."

"Goodbye, earthgirl."

He wiped a tear off her nose, ate up her gaze and then, quick as lightning, touched his fingers to the sides of her temple. She wasn't dead, just gone. "_It's not goodbye, it's see you later. I'll get you back, Donna Noble. I'll get you back."_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Doctor lamented that he'd had to break a promise to Donna, but he just couldn't let her slip away and die so easily. "_At least she's still alive, even if she's not herself." _He gritted his teeth as he gently set the passed out redhead down on her bed. Now, he'd just have to return her to her mom and granddad. The Time Lord sighed. If he had to choose between seeing Sylvia and facing down a Dalek army, he'd pick the Daleks more often than not.

He steered the TARDIS down into Chiswick and landed it on the sidewalk in front of the Noble house. Wilf burst out of the front door, looking like a kid running downstairs to open presents at the crack of dawn on Christmas. "Doctor, what are you doing here?! How's…" His excitement died when he saw his granddaughter lying unconscious in the Doctor's arms.

"Donna's fine," he assured Wilf. "She's just had a bit of an accident, and it's left her really exhausted, but she'll be okay soon enough. Let's get her to bed, and then I'll need to explain something to you and Sylvia."

"Okay," Wilf agreed. The pause in his response betrayed his calm outward appearance.

Sylvia gasped in horror as the Doctor entered the house and climbed up the stairs to Donna's room. "What has that alien done to my daughter?" she seized Wilf by his coat.

"Funny, first time I see you worry about Donna is when you think she's dead," the Doctor muttered.

Sylvia whirled around. "What was that?"

"I said, don't worry, I don't want you to think she's dead," he called down.

He paused as he was going to set the earth girl down on her bed. He didn't mind cradling her in his arms or tucking her in like a child. Truth be told, he'd sometimes been a bit standoffish with Donna: letting her tend to minor bumps and bruises on her own, not picking her brain if she was quiet for too long (although, really, encountering a silent Donna was about as likely as meeting a unique Cyberman)-those kinds of inactions. _"Well, just know I'm pulling for you, earth girl." _He smiled despite the predicament.

The din from an outraged Sylvia overwhelmed and scarfed down any positive feelings he'd mustered up. The Doctor groaned. _"She's worse than the stereotypical, overbearing mother in law." _He bounded downstairs.

"What the hell have you gotten my daughter into this time?" she shrieked.

"It's a bit complicated-"

The mother rolled her eyes. "Of _course _it is, what isn't complicated with you?! Why do you have to go around messing her life up, she does a good enough job at that without any help!"

Wilf interjected, "Sylvia, let him talk. Please." His eyes passed an apology to the Doctor.

"Look, Donna WILL be okay. Long story short, she got a bit of alien information in her head, and it wore her flat out. I had to wipe that part of her memory away. Now, if she ever hears any mention of that kind of stuff again, it'll kill her."

The ticking clock, the washing machine, the timer on the oven: All sounds were magnified.

"You mean…YOU did this to her!" Sylvia shouted. "Oh, why'd she have to go get herself caught up in your stupid world, in a bloody telephone box."

The Doctor's temper flared out. "Well, she came looking for me, so she can't have wanted to be here too much, right?"

"At least she would've been NORMAL," Sylvia screeched. "I mean, okay, she's only a temp, not that important, but-"

"Take that back. Take that back now." The Doctor's breath burst out like bullets from a submachine gun.

"What d'you mean-"

Sylvia's ignorance cracked the shackles that bound his fury down. He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to a wall.

"Sylvia Noble, would you care to know why you're alive right now?" he whispered.

She managed a small nod.

"You know Donna, that not so important daughter of yours? She saved the universe. Saved my life, too." He let her go. "So the next time you're going to make her feel like she isn't worth a damn, you'd do well to remember that." He stalked out. Wilf followed meekly.

"You…you alright, Doctor? Want a spot of tea or something?"

He shook his head. "No. I shouldn't have done that. But…I just can't stand how Sylvia treats Donna. Normally I can tolerate it, at least." He tried to shrug it off, but guilt clung to his shadow like an unwanted ex.

"Sylvia…she'll forget about it soon."

"I should apologize."

"No," Wilf replied firmly. "She'd appreciate it more if you left, to be honest."

"I figured." He sighed. "Wilf, can you keep a secret? It's one I doubt Sylvia would appreciate knowing."

"Depends," he answered uneasily. "What is it?"

"It's about Donna, and her…condition."

"Yeah, you said she can't ever know about you again." He looked dejected at that prospect.

"Well, that's not entirely true," the Doctor admitted. "See, after a certain time, the Time Lord memories will lose their potency, because she now only has a human brain. But if I just come back and pop in on her, it'll cause all those memories to flood back at once. She won't be able to handle it."

Wilf frowned. "You said that already, so what's the secret?"

"If she rediscovers little pieces that make up those memories, and they come only in small chunks, she'd be able to live through eventually putting everything back together. But only if she initiates it without any help, completely on her own."

"So you mean…" Wilf brightened. "She might be able to get back to you!"

"I'm not too optimistic. It's a long shot," he cautioned. But in his hearts, he knew he and Wilf shared one thought: "_But I'm damn glad it exists."_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gwen Stefani's voice terminated Donna's fitful sleep the next morning. The radio alarm was blaring "Sweet Escape." Donna's hand scuttled along her bedside table until it ran into the clock and hit the off button on the alarm. "God, today needs to be over!" she whined. The aftereffects of a night out drinking-had she been out drinking last night?-sloshed around in her stomach. Plus, a strange dream had upset her. She vaguely recalled being furious with some skinny chap who was wearing a blue suit. "I don't need any more annoying people cluttering up my dreams. I deal with them enough in real life," she grumbled. As if on cue, Sylvia burst into her room and crowed, "Donna Noble! What on earth were you getting up to last night? You just vanish with the car. No note, no phone call. Would it kill you to be a little responsible?" Donna gritted her teeth and let lies fly. "I was out with friends, mum. My mobile died. I borrowed someone else's to give you a ring, but you didn't answer. I didn't want to leave a message and wake you if you were sleeping."

"Well, alright. Don't dally too long or you'll be late for work." Suddenly, her mother softened and smiled. "Hope you have a good day, love."

"Err…thanks, mum. Love you too."

After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, Donna was off, both literally and mentally. _"That's the first time she's been nice to me in…well, quite awhile," _the redhead admitted. Sylvia's behavior seemed perfectly normal compared to the unknown origins of the killer migraine that was rocking her head, though. Donna wasn't above having a good time, but she rarely went out during the week. _"Come to think of it, what was I doing before I went out, anyway?" _A blur of work, traffic, and television whipped through her mind. "_Course, just another typical day." _Donna rebuked herself for entertaining the fantasy that anything abnormal would ever happen to her. Still, the man in the blue suit poked at the edges of her consciousness. He was like a fading radio station, only coming through in fuzzy, unclear intervals. _"Put it out of your mind, Donna,"_ she told herself. She arrived at the H.C. Clements security office and cracked a small smile. _"At least nothing out of the ordinary can happen at a job like this, right?" _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

As Donna pulled into one of the few available parking spots in the employee lot, the sky opened up. "Just my luck," she grumbled. Of course, she'd forgotten her umbrella at…home? Yeah, it had to be there. Where else could it be if it wasn't in her car?

She dashed for the door, getting drenched to the bone in the process. She expected the morale of the employees would mirror the weather. Even on the best of days, you could bet that someone at H.C. Clements would complain that the sun was too damn bright or the birds were chirping too cheerfully. So, Donna nearly fell over when Mr. Curtis, the eternally ill tempered and ancient accountant, beamed at her when she entered the elevator. "Hello, Donna! Beautiful day we're having, isn't it?" he gushed.

"Er…is it? I wasn't sure, you know, having just walked through a thunderstorm to get here."

His smile brightened by another ten watts. "That's the spirit! Have a great day," he winked as she got off on the third floor.

She was too distracted by his strange behavior to respond. _"If I ever go that senile, I think I'll blow all my money on a shopping spree and then drown myself in a vat of chocolate."_

The surprises multiplied as the day continued. To start off, Donna discovered a mountain of paperwork spread all over her desk.

"How on earth am I this far behind?" she gasped.

"Well, you were away last week, right?" another secretary smiled at her.

"And besides, that's only the paperwork that was done between Monday and Wednesday, dear!" someone else called.

"Oh, right. I did forget about that vacation," Donna sighed. It seemed to her she'd done an awful lot-she remembered enjoying some fancy drink on a beach and visiting a famous library or museum-the Smithsonian, that was it. Memories and images sped like a train through her mind, going so fast they were starting to give her a headache.

Fortunately, the carousel got disconnected by the "ping" of a new email message, and Donna focused on making a dent in the pile of work that loomed over her. Around 3:00, her manager called her over the intercom. She got up from her cubicle with a bit of trepidation. No doubt he was irritated that she had so much work left unfinished. However, when she went to his office, he was waiting for her not with a scowl, but with a tray of biscuits and tea. "Come in, Donna, grab a seat! How was your vacation? Where'd you go?"

"_What, did everyone at this place take happy pills while I was gone?" _she thought incredulously. "Umm, it was good. Went here and there," she shrugged. "Visited some friends and family." "Had a good time?"

"Yeah, I s'pose so."

"Wonderful, wonderful," he smiled. "Now, I gather you're having a spot of trouble getting acclimated to your workload?"

"Well, yeah, there's so much to do," she responded defensively.

"Ah. I see. And when did you get back from your vacation?" he inquired politely.

"Just a couple days ago."

He smiled knowingly. "Ah…that explains it. Don't worry, Donna, I think we'll get this problem addressed by the end of the week."

"Okay." Her brows knitted together in confusion. "So I'll have extra time to get those proposals and everything typed up and sent in the mail, will I?"

"Yes, absolutely." he assured her. "I'm glad you understand."

"Sure thing. Can I go now, then?" she asked.

"Yeah…actually, before you go, would you care for a cup of tea?" He lifted a mug.

"Sure, thanks," she smiled back and took a sip.

"Of course. Have a splendid rest of the day!" he grinned as she left.

"_Really, what IS everyone playing at today?" _she wondered, but replied all the same, "You as well."

Donna returned home feeling a bit better about the day. _"Yeah, everyone being so happy was a bit strange, but people can't go around being miserable all the time. Although mum certainly tries to." _With her mood sufficiently deflated, Donna walked in the front door, expecting to hear complaints about the miserable weather, her tardiness for dinner, or some other problem of the day. Instead, Sylvia greeted her with a "Hello, love! I saved some pork tenderloin for you in the oven. How was work?"

"Hi, mum. It was busy, but good."

"Good. I hope they're not asking too much of you there these days," she frowned.

"Err…not really." Wilf walked into the kitchen as well. Donna shot him a look that screamed "_What the bloody hell is going on?! Mum. Is. Being. Nice. To. Me?!"_

He shrugged and mouthed "_Search me."_

For the first time in months, the Noble family had a pleasant dinner all together. The rarity of such an event was nearly frightening for Donna, as was the fact that her mother had actually not burnt a meal to a crisp. After dinner, she went outside to stargaze and talk with her grandfather.

"So…she became pleasant and learned to cook properly? That's two miracles in one day! What's next?"

Wilf chuckled. "Maybe she's turning over a new leaf."

"Turning over the whole tree, more like." Donna frowned. "Plus, everyone at work was a bit like Mum today. Just real happy, always in a good mood. Almost too happy, you know what I mean?"

"Like, unnaturally happy?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Her grandfather shrugged. "Sometimes people have reasons for being that way."

"I guess." In the back of her mind, though, Donna knew something was off, and this realization brought her headache back. She rubbed her forehead. "Ouch!"

"What is it, dear?"

"It's this stupid headache," she muttered. "Don't know what it's from…maybe just the humidity. But it comes and goes with no rhyme nor reason. Except for when I'm trying to remember something, it comes on really strong then."

"Maybe you should take some Advil," Wilf suggested. "And a good night's sleep never hurt anyone."

"Yeah," Donna agreed. "It's not that bad, but I wish I knew what caused it."

"It's probably nothing," Wilf dismissed her thoughts with a wave of his hand. "Want me to walk with you back to the house?"

"You're right, I bet. And no thanks, I'll be fine." She smiled and kissed Wilf goodnight. "See you tomorrow, Gramps."

"See you, hon."

The old man sighed. Truth be told, Sylvia's change in behavior was so abrupt that it had even alarmed him. He laughed bitterly. "_Only time I've heard of someone being NICE creating problems like this." _He shook his head. He hoped these headaches wouldn't afflict his daughter too much longer, but at the same time, he could guess just what was causing them. If they were the only part of the Doctor's reality she had left, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted them to vanish altogether.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Donna Noble wasn't the only one having some weird days. The TARDIS creaked as her grandfather clock ticked past noon. The ship, like a neglected puppy, whined louder for its missing master. "Alright, alright, I'm getting up," the Doctor croaked. He'd been out on a late night bender with Jack, and now he was paying the consequences. It wasn't like him to go out and party like that on a whim, but then, it wasn't like him to be without Donna. It was strange to not be fending off requests to go shopping upon landing on a new planet, needling the redhead because of her inability to learn a lick of Gallifreyan, or consistently hearing "Dumbo" or "Spaceman" or "Timeboy" attached to the end of sentences. The TARDIS took a reprimanding turn around the moon, literally tossing the Doctor out of his bed. "Oi! What was that for?" he asked indignantly.

The normally bright interior lights darkened and adjusted until they were the exact shade of Donna's hair.

"I know, I know, I've got to get my mind off her, it's not helping anything, et cetera, et cetera," he groaned. "But you miss having her around too!" he accused the box.

This only augmented the frenzy inside the machine. The Doctor ducked to avoid being concussed by a book on how to properly entertain the Ood at a party.

"Ok, yes, that was uncalled for," he amended hastily. "I'll stop thinking bout her like this, alright? I know I've been a bit of a mess lately," he admitted.

The TARDIS murmured a slight warning, but righted its flight path, allowing the Doctor to tidy the place up in peace. After a few minutes, he leapt to the control deck and rubbed his hands together.

"Alright, we've got all of time and space to explore and, luckily, a wobbly bit of time to waste. Surprise me, old girl. You lead the way!" he cried out as he shut his eyes, eager for an adventure to begin.

After a few minutes, the TARDIS began slowly descending. "So, where are we?"

The screens flashed the word SPOILERS before going blank. "Oh, you are cheeky today." He couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. It appreciated a little joke now and then just as much as he did. _"Looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way," _the Doctor thought as he popped out of the police box. "_Hmm…definitely Earth, around present day, I'd bet. Fairly nice weather." _He checked his watch. It was 7:28 p.m. _"Still a bit of light out, but not too much, so the climate's temperate. Now to just establish where I am…"_ He spotted a loose page of a newspaper blowing in the wind, trapped it against the sidewalk with his food, and inspected it. _"In London…_" he muttered. His eyes scanned the page until he came to the paper's email address…ChiswickHerald . They narrowed to slits and red anger flashed into his sight line. He stormed back into the TARDIS. "How am I supposed to keep my mind off Donna when you practically deliver me to her? What if she sees me and remembers?" he hissed. The box responded with a bit of its own venom. "Oh, there's a problem here? Nothing bad going on anywhere else?" he rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and struggled to regain his composure. "Okay, what exactly is going on?" One of the screens came back to life and showed newspaper articles, magazine pieces, and television clips about… "TEA? That's why I'm here? Some bloke has sold a bunch of tea? I'm sorry, how is that even remotely threatening to anyone?" the Doctor shook his head and laughed. "It looks like everyone in Chiswick's pretty happy about it, if the papers are any indication." The TARDIS stubbornly insisted it was right, throwing up more information, always focusing back on the name: Cam Bryen Tea Company. "Alright, since you seem so worried about this, I'll keep an eye on it," the Doctor promised his blue companion. "If, God forbid, this Cam Bryen develops a monopoly on the tea industry, I'll come back. But for now…I think I'll decide where to go." With a bit more force than was necessary, he put the TARDIS back into flight, seeking nothing more than a reckless adventure that would not permit any thoughts of Donna Noble to cross his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nearly three weeks had passed, and it seemed to Donna that everyone else's strange behavior was cemented into society as normal. She was the outcast, the one who hadn't donned rose colored glasses. Unfortunately, she also hadn't, as her boss had expected, been able to catch up on her overdue work. "_I just don't understand how everyone else is getting this all done," _she thought miserably as she embarked on yet another trip to the break room for coffee. She'd worked overtime four of the past five days and still had more to do. "Still drinking coffee, dear?" one of the secretaries asked with, of course, a smile. "You should try Cam Bryen's new tea, it's specially designed to enhance energy and make a more productive you!" "_Jeez, why is EVERYONE turning into a spokesperson for this Bryen guy? What could be so great about his tea?" _she wondered. "_Eh, might as well try some. Lord knows I could use a pick me up." _She hitched a quick smile on her face and answered, "Alright, I'll have a cuppa. Thanks, Vanessa." The secretary was looking at Donna expectantly, so she took a couple sips.

"How d'you like it?"

"It's pretty good, actually," Donna admitted. "And I don't even like tea that much."

Vanessa beamed. "Good."

Donna got back to work and slowly drank the rest of the cup. Vanessa wasn't lying, she DID feel a lot better. The super temp whipped through her work in record time and actually enjoyed nearly every minute of it. She stopped Vanessa on the way out. "Hey, thank you so much for telling me to try that tea! It really did the trick, I feel marvelous."

"That's great! D'you know, Cam Bryen's opening his headquarters here next week?"

"Really? Is he giving tours of the headquarters or something?" A small voice in the back of Donna's head asked why exactly she was so excited about a man who owned a tea company, but something dismissed that little shred of reason as insignificant.

"No, I think he's just talking about how he wants to grow the company. We should go, it's next Thursday night."

"Absolutely!" Donna agreed out of nowhere, but it seemed like a splendid plan.

And so, amidst a flurry of work, Thursday night arrived. _"What on earth got into me when I told Vanessa I'd come with her to this load of rubbish? I can be such an idiot sometimes…but a promise is a promise, and the girl certainly is enthusiastic and happy about me coming with her." _Donna gritted her teeth. She'd just have to deal with it and sit in on the stupid meeting. It wasn't as if she would have had exciting plans, anyway.

All eyes were riveted to Cam Bryen as soon as he took to the podium. Well, all except Donna's. As Cam droned on and on about productivity, growing the brand, worker happiness, and other corporate nonsense, Donna began to people watch. "_Weird…it's like everyone's wearing the same expression, the same smile that I've been seeing at work. They can't all find this that engaging, surely?" _She also noticed, among a flock of stiffs in suits, a skinny bloke in a blue suit. _"He looks…he looks just like the man in my dream!" _This realization set her headache off. This time, it was accompanied by a stinging, burning sensation. "_Lord, I do not need to be getting a fever, too." _She looked away quickly, but stole furtive glances back at him occasionally. She was sure he was doing the same. "_Need to get his attention somehow." _She quickly crafted the gray pamphlet she'd received at the door into a paper airplane-who said procrastinating at work never came in handy?-and scribbled on the inside of the left wing, "_Is it just me, or are we the only two here that don't worship Cam Bryen? And this might sound bonkers, but do I know you from somewhere?" _She eyed down her target and let fly, then quickly turned around and pretended to root through her purse for a tissue. No one noticed her action. They were all too focused on Cam.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was focused on Donna. The TARDIS had insisted he come to this opening ceremony of the tea company's new headquarters. His first impressions of the place validated the box's misgivings. Something was strange…there was no personality in the place. Well, besides Donna, of course. He'd tried not to attract her attention, but he couldn't keep his eyes or mind off her for long. Had she remembered anything yet? Why was she here-"Bloody hell!" he swore under his breath. A paper airplane had nosedived and stabbed him in the eye. "_More weird stuff," _he noted. "_Normally people react to something unexpected like that happening…but no one did. It's like they've all got blinders on." _He unfolded the paper and recognized Donna's handwriting. "_Oh, you are still smart, you super temp." _He grinned. She'd picked up on the same things he had. He grabbed a pen out of his pocket and hastily scribbled, "_Nope, I'm sure we don't know each other. So I hope this isn't too upfront, but chat after the meeting's through? I agree, this place is a bit off. Meet you in the lobby if you're agreeable." _He tossed the message carrying device back at the redhead. She unfolded it, read his reply and decided, "_What the heck? If he's a creep, I can always mace him…if I can't overpower a skinny, pretty boy like that on my own, that is._" Yet, despite this cautious thought, Donna wasn't overly worried about the chance encounter. It wasn't like she hadn't chatted with her fair share of randos at bars or friends' parties. Plus, she had a weird feeling that she could trust the man in the blue suit. And with that feeling came another burning headache. "I really need to see a doctor ASAP," she muttered to herself.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Time Lord and the temp met with an awkward handshake.

"Hi, I'm Donna."

The Doctor nodded and replied cordially, "John Smith."

Donna had to resist the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. "So, why exactly d'you want to talk to me?" she asked flatly. "Cause if this is some ploy to get me out on a date, it's a bit pathetic."

"_Well, the sass is still there," _the Doctor thought to himself.

"_If you expected anything else, you really are mad_." He quickly turned his attention back to Donna. "No, no, nothing like that," he assured her before flashing a press pass. "I just started writing for The Chiswick Herald, and they want me to write a piece on the grand opening of Bryen's headquarters. Course, I could just recycle one of those articles that praises him to no end, but where's the fun in that?" He grinned for a second. "Plus, this whole place seems too weird to deserve all the positive press. I'm not trying to tear Bryen down or anything, it's just…"

"Everything about him seems too good to be true? I haven't come across a single person that has a complaint about his tea."

"Exactly!" _"Glad she still picks up on things quickly," _he noted happily. "This isn't an interview or anything, don't worry, I'm just curious: You noticed anything odd about the tea?"

Donna frowned. "How d'you mean?"

"I'm not sure, myself." He rubbed a hand across the back of his hair. "It's just…there are so many different varieties of tea, and people have their favorite brands, usually. Why's everyone suddenly drinking whatever comes from this one particular company?"

"You're right, I dunno." Donna snapped her fingers. "Oh, one thing, everyone in my office is practically addicted to the stuff, and they're all really happy and productive. But not in a natural way…like, their smiles seem fake. Even when something goes wrong they're still upbeat. And ever since I got back from vacation a few weeks ago, everyone's been motoring through their work like there's no tomorrow."

"Maybe you work for an excellent company?" he suggested.

She snorted. "I'm at H.C. Clements. All we do is draft and prescribe security measures for places around Chiswick-malls, large scale corporations, banks. It pays the bills, but hardly anyone there enjoys what they're doing."

"Well, maybe they're happy they're getting the work done faster? After all, the tea is supposed to be energizing," he responded.

"Yeah, but…" She shook her head, unable to articulate just what was so strange about the place these days. "It's not even like they're energized. More like productive. I tried some of the tea the other day, and I got more paperwork typed up in a day than I normally would in at least a day and a half. When I was working later in the day, though, I felt completely exhausted…but I still worked like mad. That make sense?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. You're right, that's odd."

"Well, what is there to do about it?"

"I'm probably gonna do some digging, maybe some background research on Bryen himself, see if that turns anything up," he shrugged. "Figuring out exactly what's in his tea shouldn't be too difficult. Finding out where he makes it and popping in for a visit might not be a bad idea, either. Anyway, nice to meet you, Donna. Thanks for stopping to chat, but I've got some other business to attend to." He shook her hand again and started walking for the exit.

As he slipped through the closing door, Donna felt like an opportunity was departing with him, too.

"_An opportunity for what? He hardly seems like your type: Big, strong, and silent. He's skinny as a skeleton and hardly stopped talking," _her mind chided.

"_I dunno…but it's not like I've done anything interesting lately, have I?" _she argued with herself. "_Heck, I hardly even remember that vacation. What else am I gonna do?" _She made her decision.

"Hey, John!" she called.

His ears perked up. "Yeah?" He walked back slowly and counted his steps, making sure he didn't appear too excited to hear what she had to say.

"You…you want some help? Doing research? I'm a temp, it's one of the few things I'm good for," she laughed ruefully.

"Yeah, that would be great, actually." He gave a small smile. "Want to meet at Starbucks, grab a drink, and do some digging…how's Saturday sound?"

"I've got to help my mum around the house all day. You free Saturday night?"

"Yeah." His smile grew a bit. _"Don't come off as a total prat. Be a bit more relaxed," _he told himself. "Meet you there around 7?"

"Sure." _"It's kinda cute how he can't totally hide that smile."_

"_He's probably just happy that you're a temp, Donna," _she thought, tempering what little expectations she had.

"Sounds good. See you then."

"Yep, bye." As he retreated farther away, a little voice quipped dryly, "_So, that ploy to get you out on a date was so pathetic that you took pity on the man and fell for it, right?"_

She groaned and called out, "Oi! That's not a date, d'you hear me, John Smith!"

He cracked up and yelled back, "Yeah, I dunno how, you're so quiet! And that's fine by me."

And the pair left, and their minds were in sync, looking forward to their not-a-date meeting.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Donna?" Sylvia called.

The redhead sighed. "Yes, mum?" She awaited her mother's endless list of orders with less than bated breath.

"Could you hurry up and take out the trash? I need another bag to throw out the cans of creamed corn from dinner. And then if you could turn on the dishwasher…"

"Trash, dishwasher, got it," she interrupted. "By the way, mum, I'm meeting a friend at Starbucks later tonight, we're going over a…work project."

"Alright. Man or woman?"

"_Hmm_…_do I want to cast myself as the slut or the spinster?" _Donna wondered for a second, then answered, "He's just a bloke from work, mum."

And Sylvia was off. "Oh, and wasn't Lance just a bloke from work, too? Really, Donna, I don't see why you can't settle down. Going around like this, different man in your life every other week, you'll get a reputation. Chiswick's a small place, people hear things…" Sylvia continued muttering to herself.

"_Good choice, that was a lot shorter than when she goes on about how I'm going to end up single and miserable." _Donna exterminated her chores in record time, retreated to her room, and picked through her closet. She wanted an outfit that was both casual and attractive, something that told John Smith, "_Yeah, I'm good looking, but it's perfectly normal, not a special treat for YOU." _She pulled her hair into a ponytail and eventually decided to wear a sea foam green, long sleeved top, a grey scarf, her favorite pair of blue jeans, and black flats.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was preparing for their meeting much differently. Namely, instead of excavating his closet for the perfect shirt/pants combo, he was scouring the depths of the TARDIS' computer for information about Cam Bryen and came up with nothing out of the ordinary, which quite perturbed him.

"I'm not blaming you," he assured the box, "but SERIOUSLY? There's nothing odd about this bloke? No weird family history, no affinity for canoodling with some alien race? Just boring old human hobbies? Collecting baseball cards, stamps, things like that, it seems." He paced the floor. It didn't add up. Surely, a man who brewed such a strange strand of tea had a few screws loose himself. Making a mental note to tell Donna about his findings, he snapped his fingers for the TARDIS doors to open.

They did. And then slammed shut in about a second.

"Hey," he glared at…well, everything in the TARDIS. "What's that about?"

His closet door suddenly burst open.

"Is there something wrong with pinstripes?" he asked innocently. "I heard they were all the rage this season."

Seemingly out of nowhere, the wind gave a long sigh. Tinged with the perfume of fall leaves, it blew in through a slightly cracked window and sent dead leaves in a jig around the floor.

"Okay, fair enough, a human not changing his clothes at all in two days is a bit unusual," he pouted. "Plus, if she sees me in that suit too much, it might trigger residual memories." He changed into a grey v-neck and black jeans. "Got your approval now?" he glowered, snapping his fingers again.

The doors opened, letting the sunlight in. It overwhelmed the Time Lord's dour mood, leaving him grinning like an idiot at the prospect of seeing his best friend.

The Doctor walked into the coffee shop chained armed with little more than a laptop, a thirst for information, and a strong hankering for a double chocolate brownie. He stopped for a second. "Remember, to you, she's still the same old Donna. But to her, you're John Smith. So this isn't just like old times." This realization, of course, was the only reason his breath caught in his throat when he spotted Donna settled in a cozy corner booth. It was John Smith who had to resist from greeting her with a compliment about how her shirt compliments her eyes: the epitome of springtime.

"_Snap out of it!" _He ordered himself. He regained his composure and coolly (he hoped) walked over. "Hello, Donna."

"John." She acknowledged him with a small nod, appearing to be wholly engaged in what was on her computer screen. Truth was, she was struggling to keep from bursting out laughing. "_John Smith, d'you really think I didn't spot your eyes bugging out your head?" _She gave an imperceptible shake of her head. _"The art of subtlety is lost on all men." _She assessed her new acquaintance with quick glances: a look at a painting in the corner, a craning of her neck to peer at the menu that loomed over the counter._ "Blimey, he IS skinny! Makes it work though. And I'm glad he ditched the suit," _she mused.

"Donna?" A gentle voice tiptoed into her reverie.

Her head snapped up. "Sorry, what?" she stammered.

"Fancy something to eat? I could go for a bite, myself." He smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good." She ordered a scone while he got a cup of tea and the coveted brownie.

"So, you survived the chores alright, I see."

"Yeah, barely," Donna grumbled. "My mum can be an absolute pain in the arse sometimes. How's you article coming along?"

"It's getting there. It's just a quick little write up."

"Find anything interesting about Bryen?"

"Nope. Nothing to conclude that he's doing anything fishy with his company," the Doctor admitted. He took a sip of his tea. "Maybe the man just makes a bloody good cup of tea after all?"

"Maybe…but really, your search didn't turn up anything? Not even something in the National Inquirer or anything like that?" she asked.

"National Inquirer?" he echoed, nose wrinkling. "Why would I look into that rag?"

"Cause if anyone or anything gets as well known as Bryen or his company, crackpot stories are bound to crop up. Publishers love to make a quick buck by sensationalizing things and selling it to whoever will read." He'd touched a bit of a nerve; Donna found those types of stories interesting and, while they were far from educational or really informative, they were always good for a laugh.

"_How can humans think like that? It's ridiculous, crazy!"_

"_Makes some sense, though," _he countered.

"Well spotted, Donna." He smiled. "Time for a quick Google search." He took a longer draught of tea. "Good stuff, this is. You know who makes it?"

She shook her head. "I figured it was a house blend." She opened a new Google search for Cam Bryen and scrolled down the first page, then the second. "You're right…nothing really unofficial coming up about him. It's all press clippings. Guess I was wrong."

He slipped into the seat next to her, poring over the search results. "Wait a second…no…you're dead on," he breathed. He turned to her, excitement growing. "The very fact that _nothing _like that-no scandals, no bad press from a hack writer-is available makes Cam Bryen an anomaly."

"Yeah, you're right," she nodded. His enthusiasm was an airborne disease. "It's like he's _too _normal."

"Quite right." At lightning speed, the Doctor opened another tab, eager to continue the search for knowledge, wondering where the almost overwhelming burst of ideas had come from. _"I do love cracking a good mystery, but I don't see why I'm working this hard over a tea company. Seems a bit much…oh well, perhaps not." _He typed "Cam Bryen interview" into a Youtube search and hit enter. Another flash of inspiration-he winced.

"You all right?" Donna placed a hand on his arm.

"Yeah…dunno what just hit me." He opened his previous search in a new window, found two different interviews, and opened them. In the first: "We here at Cam Bryen Tea Company feel that our success will come by appealing to the widest consumer audience possible…"

In the second video, slightly delayed, the man droned the words verbatim.

"Fishy, for sure," he remarked.

"Seriously sketchy," Donna agreed. The duo watched the two videos for another three minutes, amazed that Bryen's monotone drone followed the exact same script in both interviews. The Doctor tried to figure out where the implications led him. All he saw was more running, more things to do, more places to go. The wheels of his mind churned like the legs of a cheetah, and he was burning hotter than Mount Vesuvius.

"_There is something really not good in that tea."_

"_Clearly. Get…back…TARDIS,"_ another part of him wheezed.

"_Can't ditch her. She'll notice something's wrong." _He gritted his teeth.

Donna tilted her head and drew back from him a bit. "John, are you alright? You look…well, awful, no offense."

He shook his head. "Really bad fever. Don't know what the matter is…" He slumped on to the table.

She gasped. "Alright, up we get. You need some fresh air, now." She dragged him outside, thankful there was a bench directly across from the Starbucks. "I'll be right back," she promised. "Just let me nip back in there for my stuff, and I'll grab a glass of water for you." She hurried back in and found one of the employees taking her laptop behind the counter. "I'll be taking that back now, thanks, miss."

The barista gave her a hideous look before her smile snapped back into place. "Of course. I was just taking it for safekeeping until you returned."

"Yeah…thanks." Donna backed away slowly. "Could I get a cup of water for my friend? He's taken ill."

"Certainly." The woman's eyes never left Donna as she efficiently filled a cup. "Have a great day, miss."

"You too," Donna shuddered. She returned to John, glad to see the color had slipped back into his cheeks. "Here." He greedily gulped the water. She lightly slapped him on the wrist. "Slow down. I don't want you to choke to death on me now, too."

"Alright, Nurse Donna."

She barely resisted the urge to dish out a stronger slap. "Oi, you ever learn manners from anyone, Mr. Smith?"

He zipped the grin up a bit, but it still played at the corners of his mouth, defying the redhead. "Course I have. Thank you, Ms. Donna…I don't think I've ever caught your last name?"

"Noble."

"Alright, then. Thank you, Ms. Donna Noble, for the help. And I'd like to apologize for throwing a scare in you, if I did. I really don't know what came over me, I feel absolutely fine now. Oh, and I'm sorry for ruining our meeting."

She smiled. "Apologies accepted…and it's alright, that barista that gave me the water was such a creep. Don't think she much liked what we were searching." Like a guitar solo on a soft rock ballad, concern crept quietly into her voice. "And are you sure you're alright?" She clapped a hand to his forehead. "You still feel like you're running a fever."

She could imagine her mother's voice: "_Donna Noble, you will take ANY excuse to get your hands on a man, won't you?"_

"_Shove off, Sylvia." _

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'm good. Thanks for asking, though." The Doctor's face flushed, and it had almost nothing to do with the fever he'd just suffered. "So, since this meeting ended rather abruptly, I was wondering if we could maybe…"

"Finish it later?" She finished his thought. "Sure." The pair swapped numbers. "You sure you can manage getting home alright?" she asked. "I could give you a ride."

He waved off her concern. "Nah, my place is real close."

"What, you live in one of these tiny apartments?" She gestured at the cookie cutter complexes.

"Yep. It's not that small, actually. Bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside, if you can believe it," he winked. I'll see you later, then, Donna?"

"For sure, Jo…ow!" A painful twinge interrupted her goodbye.

He stopped and looked back. "You okay?"

She laughed. "Hey, who do you sound like now? Yeah. I'm okay," she lied. The twinge was reverberating through her skull like a snapped rubber band, and random memories came bouncing back with it. She couldn't shake the feeling that John's face should snap into place with them, as well.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Donna inched her car into the driveway, got out, and shut the door as quietly as possible. She slipped in the back door, hoping to sneak off to bed before her mom could pepper her with questions. No such luck. Sylvia was waiting in the kitchen.

"So, how was your…meeting?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Good. Productive. But we still have more to do," Donna answered in bullet points, praying that the interrogation wouldn't drag on too long.

"Alright. Hope this guy knows what he's getting himself into."

"Mum! We're just working on a project together," she huffed.

"Sure. A project." Sylvia smiled knowingly.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Night, mum."

"Night."

Two days later, the temp was back at H.C. Clements, slogging her way through some especially boring paperwork regarding the placement of security cameras in restrooms. "_I…DON'T…CARE…ABOUT…THIS." _Alright, so that was her mantra for the majority of assignments she had to proofread, but today, it was running through her head on an unending loop. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out. "New Text Message: John Smith." She smiled, glad that he was the one to break her boredom.

J.S: _How's the working girl doing?_

D.N: _Trying not to fall asleep on the job…so it's a pretty normal day. How are you?_

J.S: _Alright. Just dealing with a long standing spat between neighbors at work, but it's nothing too bad._ He shoved his phone back in his pocket as the patriarchs of the Grangerford and Shepherdson families came together. The Doctor directed their attention to the fine print of the armistice. "So, do you two honestly believe both you and your families can abide by this?" He glared sternly at the two men. They nodded. He gave them the once over. "Swear it in blood?" he challenged them. They assented. "Good. I hope for your sakes you don't see me round these parts again, gentlemen."

D.N: _Good luck with that! Oh, and by the way, you doing any more research in the near future?_

J.S: _As a matter of fact, yes. I'm going to Bryen's headquarters again later this week, see if I can't find any new information there. _

Donna waited for a follow up text that said something along the lines of "Want to come with?" or "Want to finish that meeting?" But none came.

"_Well, he's probably just busy at work." _She dismissed any notion that he wouldn't ask her to join.

Meanwhile, the Doctor was conflicted. _"Who knew communicating like this took so much bloody effort!" _He rubbed his neck. He did want to see Donna again, but that selfish wish was outweighed by his desire to keep her safe. He hadn't realized it at the time, but flippantly tossing out a reference to the TARDIS had probably had an effect on her. _"She needs to figure it all out either on her own, or not at all."_ He placed his phone on the side table in his bedroom and resolved to not check it for a while. _"If she asks to come out of her own will, then she can."_

Donna stubbornly waited for her phone to buzz. _"Relax, he probably just got tied up with something. Or maybe his phone didn't send the message and he didn't realize," _she told herself.

Doubt resurrected itself out of the silence and lack of a reply from John. Lance's voice floated in: "_You're…you're alright, Donna Noble. Just alright."_

Her mother clucked her tongue:_ "He has to be at least a few years younger than you. He could get with anyone, I reckon. Why would he waste even half a second on you…"_

Worst of all, her own voice: _"Why would he ever fancy being your friend? You're just…obnoxious Donna, dull Donna, stupid temp Donna…"_

She cracked and snatched up her phone. It was a desperate move, no doubt, to ask (no, she wouldn't be reduced to begging) to tag along, like an annoying younger sibling. But just this one time, she craved affirmation that someone out there actually gave a rat's arse about her.

D.N: _So…is it alright if I come? It's fine if you want to work alone._

That was sent around lunchtime. Between one thing and the other, the Doctor entirely forgot about his phone until half past 4.

At 4:43, Donna's phone vibrated. "New Text Message: John Smith." She barely even wanted to open it. Then the rejection would have taken place. _"Why do I torture myself?" _Nevertheless, Donna opened the message.

J.S: _Sure you can come __J Meet you there around 6 on Friday?_

Donna examined the message closely, making absolutely sure she wasn't just projecting what she wanted to read onto her screen. She wasn't.

D.N: _Sounds like a plan._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was time for another meeting. Donna found John leafing through a pamphlet in the lobby of Bryen's tea manufacturing plant.

"Glad to see you're recovered from that NDE," Donna smiled

"Oh, that's a walk in the park, compared to some days," he replied.

"Really? Freelance writers face down danger on a regular basis, then?" She gave him a mocking stare of adoration

He played along. "Oh, yeah. Might bleed out from a paper cut, might stain your best shirt with ink before date night, could nearly get blinded by a poorly thrown paper airplane…" he grinned.

Donna's mouth narrowed, but her eyes were still smiling. "John Smith, you are impossible."

"I know."

As they made their way down a long corridor, Donna voiced one of her concerns. "Er…John. It's rather late. Surely they're closing this place up soon? Cause I don't really think we should be sneaking around afterwards."

"Nope, they're actually open til nine," he answered. "Weird, I know…couldn't figure out exactly why. I guess they have a crew that works later hours."

"Alright…"

"_Why are you trusting this man?" _she hissed furiously. _"What are you doing here that's so important?"_

"John?"

"Hmm?" He didn't break stride.

"Why are we doing this?" Donna stopped walking and pursed her lips.

Wisely, he went with an answer that wouldn't burn the woman up. Stupidly, he let John Smith, the writing expert, take over. "Well, I'm doing this because I want to preserve journalistic integrity and get to the truth of this matter, however trivial it may seem. If it turns out that there's absolutely nothing wrong with Bryen and his company, I'll happily report that. You're here because…" he paused. "Well…I can't really sort that out for you, now can I?" He turned and continued on his path down the hallway, looking for Bryen's office. He found it, Soniced the door, and slipped inside before taking a deep breath.

"_Really nice response, that was," _he remarked scathingly.

"_Well, if she was worried, why not ask about what I'd be doing before we were sneaking around the bloody building?" _He balled his hands into fists.

"_Why not think about things from a more human perspective?"_

"_Because I CAN'T! I've got more than them to worry about, more than just HER to worry about."_

"_How much more, exactly?" _

He searched for a retort, couldn't find one quickly enough. Searched for her instead.

She was still in the hallway, trembling with a silent fury.

"_This isn't gonna go well, is it?"_

"_You're gonna get slapped."_

Still, to his credit, the Doctor tried to apologize. "Donna, I'm so, so-

WHAP!

Nostrils flared, eyes slimmed down to slits, she threatened him with a schoolteacher's deadly whisper. "Oi, you ever talk to me that way again, John Smith, I will not hesitate to slap your skinny body into another galaxy. Are we clear?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Wonderful." She flashed him a twisted smile. "Hope that doesn't sting too much. And keep up, please! I don't know my way round here," Donna called over her shoulder as she walked briskly down the hall.

The Doctor shook his head in amazement. You would have thought he'd just stopped to tie his shoe. _"That woman is going to be the death of me."_

He sped up and found Donna jiggling the lock on Bryen's door. "Stupid thing won't open."

"You mind if I have a go?"

She moved aside. "Nope. So I'll be the lookout."

He would have smiled if it didn't hurt quite so much. "Thanks. You used to sneaking around, then?"

She snorted. "Yeah. You got me. Donna Noble: Temp by day, thief by night."

"Ah, there we go!" He exclaimed loudly, hoping it covered the sound of the Sonic screwdriver.

"How'd you do that?" She tried to sound merely curious rather than impressed.

He held up his press pass. "Works the same as the credit card trick, thankfully."

Quickly, the two made their ways to opposite sides of the room.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Donna asked.

"Plans…or…err…Anything you think is important."

She smirked. "Why do I get the sense planning is not one of your strengths?"

"Hey, I have a fail safe plan, it's called improvisation." He volleyed a barb back.

The Doctor rifled through desk drawers and found… "Aha! Old employee records. Thank goodness people still keep things on paper files." He flipped through a few pages. "Let's see…it shows the hours worked, operations completed, orders shipped. Hmm…funny thing."

The redhead came over to examine the book. "What is it?"

"Look at the language." He read an entry. "Plant 35B has received their shipment. Increased quantities needed to saturate the market. Must infiltrate ALL stores to properly utilize new labor sources." He looked at Donna. "Sounds awfully mechanical for a tea company."

She nodded. "And have you noticed?" She gestured at the bare walls and the uncluttered brown desk. "Not a hint of an interest in anything. I mean, I don't keep much at my little cubicle, but I at least have a few pictures of family and good friends, and a whiteboard with some funny quotes from people around the office. This doesn't have any human touches."

"You're right…which makes THIS awfully suspicious!" He walked over to a tall plant that stood just inside the doorway and burrowed through the dirt in the pot.

She cracked up. "You are daft. Who would hide something in a plant?"

He held up a small CD case with a blank DVD in it. "Sometimes you have to _dig deep_ to get good information. Mind taking a peep down the hall, see if anyone's coming?"

As soon as Donna left, the Doctor Soniced the desktop computer to life and popped in the DVD.

"Nope, we're good." She came back in and locked the door for good measure.

"Alright, great. And thanks for mentioning the thing about the decorations, I wouldn't have thought of that."

She blushed. "Well, without you, we wouldn't have gotten in this office, so I think we're about even."

They watched intently as a title rolled across the screen: DAILY OPERATIONS. 23 SEPTEMBER. FOR MANAGERIAL REVIEW ONLY. Strangely, everything seemed to be controlled by robotic arms: the brewing of the tea, the placing of the product into crates and boxes, and the shipping.

"Wouldn't they have someone around for quality control, at least?" Donna asked.

"Well, if they're the McDonald's of the tea world, I doubt it. But look at this." He ran his finger down the columns "Hours Worked" and "Wages Earned." "See, people were getting paid for this work, but we haven't seen a single person on the video. So unless they come in later…they must just be controlling the machines." Another thought was about to leapfrog off that one, he could feel it, and…

"INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!" an alarm blared.

"What do we do?" Donna clasped his arm. He grinned and redirected her grip to his left hand. "RUN!" he shouted. The pair fled the artificial darkness and didn't stop running for about a block and a half, well away from Bryen's headquarters.

"So…would you mind…taking a research break?" Donna wheezed, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Not at all," he gasped, leaning on a dustbin for support.

"Can this research break involve food?" she suggested.

"Yes."

Too exhausted to cook, and too hungry to want to wait anyway, the pair elected to drive back to Donna's house and order Chinese takeout.

"So, do you not have a car? I've noticed you've walked everywhere we've gone," Donna commented, then silently grimaced. "_Geez, I sound like I'm stalking the poor fellow!"_

He didn't seem to notice her distress, fortunately. "Yeah, I have one, but it's a spot of trouble getting her round London. It's a pretty big car, gets stuck in the narrow streets, you know?"

"Gotcha. Are you not from around here?"

"Nope. Grew up in Ireland, out in the country. It was nice-not that London and Chiswick aren't. But it was more open there."

"Oh." She paused. "You know, there's a nice sized hill out back of my house. My Gramps and I stargaze there all the time. And he's always on the lookout for aliens. Would you want to go out and eat there if it's not too cold?" _"You sound like SUCH a prat, Donna. Just tape your fat mouth shut and then you wouldn't embarrass yourself in front of every guy you get the chance to meet-"_

"Sure, that sounds great."

If Donna hadn't been driving, she would have done a double take. "_John Smith, you are one strange bloke. And damn if I don't like you more for it."_

For once, luck resided in Donna's corner. She expected to find her mum and gramps home (Bless Wilf's soul, but his eccentric manner could almost single handedly scare a man into finding an excuse to leave). Instead, she found a note on the kitchen table.

_Dear Donna: Your mum is dragging me out to the town to do some curtain shopping, and then we're going to waste our money on some awful comedy that a girlfriend told her to go see. Hope you have a better evening than me. _

_Love always,_

_Gramps_

She chuckled. "Poor Wilf. And lucky you," she pointed to the Doctor. "Meeting my mum is about as fun as disturbing a wasp's nest."

"Come on, she can't be that bad." He protested despite knowing better.

"She is. Take my word for it and hope you don't have to find out for yourself."

Donna scooped up a blanket, the Doctor grabbed the delivery bag from Number One Express, and the two of them made their way out back. They lay down together on the blanket after quickly polishing off their order of egg noodles, chicken, and dumplings. Unfortunately, Donna wasn't at all used to sharing the blanket, and had quite forgotten that it was a tight squeeze for two people.

"Could you take up a bit less space?"

"Me? You keep insisting I'm all skin and bones, how much less space can I take up?" the Doctor asked.

She groaned. "There has to be a way to make this work so we can actually both look at the bloody sky and sit on this tiny thing." She slipped back off the old quilt for a second. "Here…I know. Instead of both lying flat on our backs, how about we try…this." She rolled on to her right side and scooted in closer on John's left.

"Donna…my arm's a bit cramped."

She gave a melodramatic sigh. "I know. I _want _your arm to fall asleep on you, John." A few more uncomfortable seconds inched by.

"Donna…?"

She laughed. "I was kidding! Put your arm around me, you dumbo." She wagged a finger in his face. "But don't go getting any ideas. I don't wanna have to slap you again."

"Alright, don't worry bout a thing."

If the Doctor needed any confirmation that he'd stated thinking about Donna as more than just his best mate, this did the trick. He'd lay with her before, of course, but never this close. He would happily drown in the ocean breeze scent of her hair. She was magnetizing. All he wanted to do was slide his right hand down from her shoulder to her spine and pull her in closer. Donna, meanwhile, was hoping she could use his chest as a pillow.

"_Yeah, cuddling that close with a bloke would never give him ideas. You wouldn't be tempting him at all," _she thought dryly. _"Face it, love, you know what you want."_

"_But am I what he wants?" _She wanted the answer, but didn't dare voice the question. Instead, the pair comfortably shared the silence.

"Sky's beautiful tonight," John lied. He managed to rip his eyes off her to actually confirm what he'd said.

Donna stifled a giggle and gave a dreamy smile. "Yeah, nice view."

As a midnight blue cloud drifted across her vision, Donna couldn't help but think she'd seen that exact color, that very shade, somewhere before. _"Well, it wouldn't be surprising. There are a lot of shades of blue out there." _She laughed at her bit of simple mindedness.

The color chewed away at her consciousness, eventually coating it entirely, draping itself over her eyes. She saw police box blue. A little voice inside her head whispered, "_That's not just a police box."_ No. It was more. A machine. A flying machine…

_CRACK_

Her eyes slowly opened. Her head throbbed, and her cheeks were a pair of fiery coals. The Doctor had gotten lost in outer space, trying to find the end of the Big Dipper. "Ah, there it is! See it, Donna?" He nudged her shoulder, or rather, where her shoulder had been. The redhead was limp, passed out flat on her back. "Donna? You alright?" He gave her arm a gentle shake. No response. He looked up, saw red branded deep in her face. _"Oh, no…she's remembering too much at once, it's overwhelming her body." _Trying to keep his voice steady, he whispered into her ear, "Donna? Can you hear me?" He kept his body as far away from her as possible, not wishing to reveal he had two hearts that were threatening to vacate their premises. She reached a heavy hand up for her friend's fuzzy face. "John…" Her hand dropped as she, too, fell back into this…

_CRACK_

…This blue box. Whose was it? A man in a blue suit exited it, spotted her, grinned, and bolted in the opposite direction. Oh, that wasn't just a man in a suit, that was _the _man, the one in her dream, she was almost sure of it. If only she'd gotten a better look at his face. She gave chase, running, panting, somehow keeping up with him, if she could just get closer now…

_CRACK_

She wailed like an infant and nearly vomited from the pain radiating through her head. "So…c-cold…burning!" she moaned. "John…help!" Her fever kept climbing. "No. NO! She is NOT going to die like this!" the Doctor roared. But what on earth could he do to help? A survey of his surroundings proved fruitless. There was no water anywhere near by. He couldn't get Donna to the TARDIS, not with her thrashing about so fitfully. The Time Lord held in a yell and then held Donna close, murmuring half believed promises in her ear: "I've got you, Donna Noble. You'll get through this, I swear. I'll be here, I'll keep you safe." He leaned down, brushed her messy hair away from her face with a shaking hand, and kissed beads of sweat off her forehead. He wanted her agony, wanted to gut it out of her, hoped it would slip off her skin and cut through his lips

_CRACK_

…Now she'd caught up to him. And she was an idiot. Let a strange man lead you somewhere, and you end up smack in the middle of an arctic tundra, apparently. And all she'd wanted was a vacation on a beach. But they _had _visited a beach. The blue ocean looked peaceful that day. And there was another one, another man in a blue suit. And a blonde girl…

_CRACK_

Donna's head was swimming. Clones of the stars that littered the night sky danced wherever she looked. "What…what's happening to me?" John's breath left him. "I don't know, but you're…still here. That's good." She closed her eyes again. "I'm going under again…" she whispered and, this time, managed to slip her hand into his before she faded. He squeezed it gently. "I'll be here when you wake up."

_CRACK_

…and the girl took the man in the blue suit and walked away. But he wasn't the one Donna had been chasing, anyway. No, the one she was running after needed someone to lighten up that deep shade of blue. The color that haunted the man now was threatening to end its life and fade to black, and it would engulf him, make him feel empty, too. She couldn't let it do that. "No, stop," she whispered.

_CRACK_

Those two words kicked her subconscious memories back down. Reality rushed in and drowned them again. But they still screamed for release, and air bubbles were ascending to the surface.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Donna's eyes popped open. She tried to sit up, but failed miserably. "You doing okay?" John's quiet voice might as well have been booming out of a speaker.

"No, you idiot," she rebuked him sharply. "Owww…bloody hell, where'd this migraine come from?"

"Dunno. But I should get you home."

"Great idea, you think that up on your own?" she scorned him. "Sorry, I'm not this much of a bitch normally, I swear. Headache's talking."

"Don't worry about it." The two of them gathered up Donna's blanket, the empty food cartons, and began trekking their way back to the house. Even with John supporting her, Donna nearly lost her balance several times in just a few steps.

"Alright, this is not working," the Doctor said as Donna stumbled yet again. "Can you stand still for a sec?"

"Yeah, what are you-OI, YOU PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT, JOHN SMITH!" For Donna's friend had literally swept her off her feet and into his arms.

"No. I'm carrying you home, no arguing," he answered, sounding like a parent denying their child sweets at the checkout counter.

"If you drop me, get ready to run for the hills, d'you understand me?" she yelled.

"Shut up, I've got you." He shot her an impish smile.

Despite her protests, Donna found it easy to trust the man. Her hand brushed his bicep as she wound her arms round his neck, and she nearly gave a throaty purr of delight. _"Oh my God, he's actually got some muscle to him."_ All too soon, they arrived at the back door. Thankfully, the house was dark. Donna would have had a LOT of explaining to do if Sylvia had found the pair at the back door.

"This is me," Donna nodded at the house. She should have been slipping her arms over John's head. Instead, they readjusted themselves, pulling her closer to his face. She didn't want to leave.

"Yeah…" Still unwilling to relinquish Donna.

"Well…I should be getting off to bed soon. Got work early tomorrow."

"Same here." He reluctantly made the first move, lowering the redhead's legs so she could stand up easily. "You feeling any better?"

"A bit. The headache's more a bit of a dull ache rather than a killer throbbing, now. I'll take some Tylenol before I hit the hay, see if that helps any."

"Good idea." He slowly backed away from the door. "Well, night, Donna. It was fun."

"Yeah, it was. Glad you had a good time," she smiled. "And sorry about the…" she mimed a slap.

"I completely deserved it. Sometimes need that sort of thing to keep me in check, unfortunately."

She shrugged. "Eh. We're both human."

"Yeah," he lied. "Well…I'll see you around."

"Yep. Later, John."

He slinked off to the TARDIS, and she slowly conquered the stairs. Their dull footfalls stood out in sharp contrast to their electrifying, less than friendly thoughts:

"_How bloody long is it gonna take you to admit it to yourself?" _The Doctor directed a hard kick at a pebble on a sidewalk and missed. Appropriate, considering everything in his life lately. Always trying, always failing. He continued haranguing himself. _"Or even ask a rhetorical question, if you can handle that better: Why didn't you…_

"…_at least kiss him?" _Donna bemoaned her missed opportunity as she chased a Tylenol with a tall glass of water. _"How flippin long are you gonna pretend that you don't think about him as more than a friend?_" She shook her head in disgust. _"None of this matters. You won't do anything. You're scared, you're a…"_

"…_coward. You can stare down a million different faces of death, but you can't tell a girl you like her." _Following this depressing realization, he decided jettisoning this train of thought into a dumpster would be a good idea. He arrived at the TARDIS, determined to make further progress with his research. He snatched up a pen and paper, took a deep breath, and began free writing: "Robotic." "Not human." "Automated." "No emotion/personality." "Increased productivity." Beneath these words, in all caps: CAM BRYEN. WHO IS HE? _"I wonder…maybe his name's an anagram," _the Doctor hypothesized. He began rearranging letters:

CAM BRYEN

BRYAN CAME? (Came where? Made no sense)

CAYMBREN? (Like, a slang version of "Cambridge?" Dead end)

NAM? (As in "Vietnam?" That was a pathetic attempt)

He examined the list several times over, trying to think of characteristics to associate with the man and the tea company, but couldn't come up with anything more than what he'd already written. _"How is there not more to him?" _The Doctor's face burned red. He read over the top part of his notes again, repeating the words. "Not human, robotic, emotionless, productive, automated…" Suddenly, goosebumps on his arms leapt to attention, and a chill of horror sprinted down his spine. Hand shaking, he uncapped his pen, hoping that he was completely wrong. He picked a terrible time to be right.

CAM BRYEN

CYBERMAN

"A Cyberman army, comprised of humans. The tea affects their minds," he whispered, recalling how fast his mind raced when he drank it. Remembering how everyone looked the same at the meeting, used similar mannerisms, wore the same slightly overzealous smile. It was a clandestine coup.

"Oh, we are in trouble now, aren't we…"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Doctor leaned over his bedside table and slapped his beeping alarm off. He gave a mighty stretch and forced himself to vacate his warm cocoon of blankets. Following his discovery late last night, he'd taken to spamming the Internet with seemingly credible, substantial claims that consuming Cam Bryen's tea was quite harmful to the human body. _"Then again, so is eating fast food, and who doesn't do that?" _he thought despairingly. Some of his research, however, gave him reason to keep a shred of optimism alive: Bryen's tea operation had, amazingly, not yet taken firm hold outside London. _"Guess he wants a total takeover before spreading out. Doesn't want any trouble." _Well, if there was one thing the Doctor brought in droves wherever he went, it was trouble.

Having dragged Bryen's name through a boatload of mud online, the Doctor figured his next move would be to hack into television stations. His red eyes crawled over to his clock. It was only 6:30 A.M. Even in his sleep deprived state, it wasn't too much of a challenge to fly over to a couple of TV and radio stations, flash psychic paper at the zombies on staff, and let his sonic screwdriver work its bit of magic on teleprompters. He retreated back to the TARDIS and flipped a screen on to one of the stations he'd infiltrated. "Yes, folks, what you're hearing is true, Cam Bryen's tea should not be consumed under ANY circumstances. People who have been drinking the tea regularly have reportedly suffered from nausea, dizziness, headaches, and vomiting in the past 24 to 48 hours." The anchor looked as if he couldn't even believe what he was saying. The Doctor gave a weary grin, admiring the chaos he'd whipped up. Now, to just see where the company already had footholds…He'd have to flush them out…in a little bit…

The Doctor snapped awake and nearly toppled backwards out of his desk chair. "Ugh…wha's the time?" 8:30. Great. He'd only lost…slightly under two hours. The Time Lord stumbled to his bathroom, filled the sink up with cold water, and dunked his face under. _"Right now, there's the tiny matter of a Cyberman invasion to worry about," _he reminded himself. "_You can sleep later." _He had the TARDIS run a scan for companies that had warehoused the tea for their employees. The results popped up on a map of London, and the places that held tea were indicated by a red dot. Soon, the vast majority of London was drenched in blood. And one of the places that held the most tea was…

"H.C. Clements." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "_Nothing can ever be easy." _He tried Donna's mobile. No answer. He tried not to worry. That lasted for about half a second. The Doctor knew that, unless Cybermen suddenly weren't at all logical, they'd use the last person who'd been in the TARDIS to gather information on him, and he didn't want to think about what consequences could arise from that endeavor. "Well…looks like it's time for a rescue mission." Armed with a few gadgets and gizmos he hoped would be unnecessary, he set a course for the outer edge of the H.C. Clements parking lot.

Donna was blissfully ignorant of the morning news as she drove to work, mind only focused on slogging through whatever tasks she was assigned for the day. Well, that's what her mind was supposed to be focused on. Instead, she caught herself thinking of last night's not-a-date with John. Lost in her thoughts, the redhead nearly bowled over one of her coworkers as she walked toward her cubicle.

"Oh, sorry, Vanessa." Donna stepped out of her daydream and into a strange reality: Literally all of her co-workers were standing in a circle round her work space.

"Er…hi, everyone?" she smiled nervously and her insides squirmed. _"Okay, this is beyond creepy."_

They spoke as one unit. "Donna Noble. You must become like us."

She tried to back away, only to find herself locked in a death grip. "What d'you mean, exactly?"

"You must be taken for upgrading." A pause. "And you must tell us where the Doctor is, so we can make him…LIKE US."

"Doctor who? And get your stinkin paws off me, what the hell is the matter with all of you?" she cried. "You all gone bonkers today or what?"

"Nothing. We are not mad. We are upgraded. You were not willing to upgrade. You will be forcibly converted. You will be fitter. More productive. Without paranoia. At ease. Without illness."

"What the _fuck_…" She blanched whiter than printer paper as she saw one of them gulp a cup of tea.

"We do not tolerate insubordination. Inform us where the Doctor is, or you will be DELETED."

"I don't know any bloody doctor!" she screamed. Her headache was kicking back in. _"Oh, what lovely timing this is. Just the type of morning I wanted to have. Got my coworkers losing their minds and a blistering headache as the cherry on top." _She wrenched her attention back to these…things. "What ARE you? What happened to you people?"

"We do not take orders from inferiors. Identify yourself."

"I'm Donna Noble, you all know who I am, cut the crap!"

"Incomplete answer. You are the companion to-

They were cut short by the "ping" of the elevator. The doors slid open. The Doctor gave Donna a quick nod. _"Could this day get ANY weirder?" _she nearly screamed. It did.

"Donna, hit the floor, NOW!" he shouted before tossing two sticks of dynamite into the center of the ring of the hybrid Cybermen. They all tried to dodge the explosives and forgot to keep a hold on the temp. She wrenched herself free of her former co-workers' grip and dashed into the elevator.

"Okay…" she gasped. "First off, thanks. Second, WHAT THE HELL? All this weird crap, my coworkers are robots, or cyborgs, or something, my head feels like it's gonna explode-" she rambled.

"Long story, _really _long story-" He tried to cut her off, but this was Donna Noble he was dealing with; that task was nearly always hopeless.

"And I just want to go back to having a normal life, thank you very much," she finished in a huff, dusting some debris from the explosives off her shirt.

The Doctor groaned inwardly. _"And she pulled the trigger. Flashback incoming in 3,2,1..." _

He could really, really live with being wrong more often.

_CRACK_

"_What are you playing at, saying you want to go back to having a normal life?" _A woman's voice shouted, or rather, tried to shout at the unconscious redhead. _"Trade all this, everything you've learned, everything you've seen, for boring old Chiswick? You know where you should be, and it isn't stuck in that stuffy old house, working another meaningless temp job." _The voice flickered out and faded a bit._ "You should be…on…ventures…space…"_

_CRACK_

Donna dimly registered that she was slumped against the wall of an elevator. The pain was less acute when she tried to bridge gaps between her thoughts, she found. "John…where'm I…s'pose to go?" she murmured unclearly.

"What are you talking about?" A nervous sweat broke out across his brow.

"Never mind, I'll sort out," she replied thickly.

_CRACK_

The voice, very similar to her own, was losing power, but a few words came through perfectly. "_Can't…explain all of it. Help…he needs it…he needs you."_

Her self doubt butted in with a cruel smirk. _"Donna Noble? We are talking about the same person, right? Cause no one in their right mind needs her for much of anything."_

The first voice got riled up at that. "_NO! She's more…means more…to everything…she's important. Brilliant. Doesn't see it, can't believe it…" _Using the last of her strength, the woman crowed triumphantly, "_But she IS!"_

_CRACK_

"Me?" She asked weakly.

"You what?" John scratched his head.

She took a deep breath. "Nothing, nothing." She wrinkled her nose. "Is it bad that I'm getting used to these headaches, John?"

"I…uh…I'm not a doctor or anything," he stammered. "Have you…you know, gone to one?"

"Yeah, went to a couple. They said they couldn't find anything that would be causing them." They heard a door slam above them. "We must find them. We must make them like us."

The pair scrambled (or struggled, in Donna's case) to their feet. "What d'you say we get out of here?" the Doctor asked, offering Donna his arm.

"Just too smart for words, you are." She took it all the same, and they bolted for the door. Donna had picked a good day to park in the closest available spot. They quickly locked the doors and gave a huge sigh of relief.

"So…what exactly do we do about all this?" Donna asked. "I have this weird feeling you're a lot more mixed up in this situation than you're letting on." An aftershock hit her head.

"Well, yeah, a bit." He patched together a story. "Bryen doesn't want any more bad publicity coming out, does he?"

"No, I mean, you're trying to stop him entirely. Shut down the tea company, stop them from creating whatever those things I used to work with are now." More stinging, more burning from a potential fever.

"Well…" He fiddled with his tie.

"There's no way you're just a freelance writer," she frowned.

"You could say I've dallied in a lot of careers, yeah. Bounced around from job to job, so to speak." He put a finger to her lips as she opened her mouth again. "Look. You need to be getting home. You need rest."

"No." She held her ground. "I'm coming with you, I'm helping. If it weren't for you, those…robot things said I'd have been deleted. That doesn't sound too good, even if I don't know exactly what it means." She stared him down. "I owe you, big time, so don't try to get rid of me."

He sighed. Surely, one more attempt to sway her mind wouldn't be taken too badly. "Are you sure? Cause you don't have to come, you can go-"

WHAP!

"Oi! You suddenly go deaf?" she demanded. "Cause that's the only reason I'd be sorry for slapping you just now!"

"No," he conceded, rubbing his cheek.

"Didn't think so." Her attention turned back to the road.

He looked at her incredulously. "Have I mentioned you're mad?"

"Yeah, you and every other bloke on the planet."

"Well…it's a nice kind of mad," he confessed lamely. "Could do with less of the slapping," he added. The Doctor's gaze hit the floor, as he took a keen interest in making sure his left shoe was properly knotted.

Donna would've preferred a better compliment, but it was better than nothing. She cleared her throat, hoping to clear some of the awkward out the air. "So, we got a plan?"

He grinned. "Course. We go to Bryen's headquarters."

"And…?"

"What, you're worried? Cause I've got us a fail safe plan," he beamed.

Despite all the events of the day, despite the fact that she had half a mind to chuck John out her car just so she could see that smug grin evaporate, Donna beamed back. "Let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Donna drove up to the main entrance of Bryen's building, or rather, made an attempt at it. The place was crammed to the breaking point by reporters from all over.

"Well, looks like someone's having a press conference." Donna looked over to John. "Where exactly do you figure we can park?"

"Err…sorry, what were you saying?" Truth be told, he was actually trying to piece together a plan before he was trapped in the middle of a crisis, and he'd rather lost focus of any nonessential details.

"Parking. Car. Where?" she simplified.

"Let's go round the back…could be useful, having your car there," he suggested. "No one's going to notice us in all this." He gestured at the general mayhem. "And, who knows, maybe we'll be able to hear what Bryen has to say from your car."

"Good plan, spaceman," Donna answered, cutting through the empty parking lot and pulling her car into one of the spots nearest the back entrance.

"Why'd you just call me that?" He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, as if he hadn't just nearly choked on air in shock.

She returned his look of suspicion. "You seem…you know…spacey, zoned out, that's all. Didn't mean anything by it."

He nodded. "Yeah…it's been a long day." They winced as static screamed out of a microphone. "Kill your engine, let's see if we can hear Bryen from here."

The man's blasé voice boomed into the empty sky. He seemed to be responding to a question.

"Yes, we are aware of the accusations that have been brought against us. No, there is not a shred of truth to them. We hold our product to the highest quality standards. We only wish to…" Bryen twitched, coughed, then smiled. "Excuse me. We only wish to improve the human condition, improve health and wellbeing in everyone."

"Mr. Bryen, will your plans for expansion change as a result of these issues?" a reporter asked.

"No. We are still planning to begin our exclusive partnership with McDonald's on the 15th," he answered.

"The 15th is only…a week and a day from now!" Donna gasped.

"Yeah. I had no idea they were planning to expand so quickly." The Doctor blanched at the thought of a worldwide Cyberman empire.

Another reporter called out, "What do you expect will happen to those reports, sir?"

"They will be deleted shortly. I sincerely believe their respective authors will become like us and will eventually see the benefits of our tea. I drink it. My employees drink it." He indicated a few staff members who stood behind him. "Do we look worse than any of you?"

"No," several members of the media asserted.

"Clearly, the tea is not to blame." The man's smile glinted like a jagged edge of glass in the sunlight. "If we find someone has tampered with is makeup to produce the unhealthy symptoms that some people have unfortunately experienced, we will prevent them from doing so again as soon as possible." He paused and peered around the crowd. "Any more questions? No? Well, then, thank you for the questions. I hope we will soon have this issue resolved. Have a good day, all. I must be getting back to work."

The Doctor and Donna speed walked to the back door. Of course, it was locked.

"Can't you do that thing with your press pass?" Donna asked.

"Uhh…it doesn't work on outside doors, I've tried it loads of times before," he lied. _"Screw it, you weren't gonna be able to hide every alien part of you from her forever."_ He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the door. It popped open.

"What the hell is that?"

He stashed it in his pocket as quickly as possible. "Multi tool. I know a guy. Brilliant with computers." Wanting to avoid any more questions, he took the stairs two at a time. "C'mon, let's go!" he urged cheerfully.

"Geez…you a workout freak or something?" she panted as she labored up the staircases, lagging well behind the alien.

"Not really. I do a fair bit of running, though." He was examining a map on the wall. "Let's see. Where to go? Human resources, no, company opportunities, no…aah, brewing room, up another staircase and hang a left." Donna groaned; she'd only just caught up with him. "Another staircase? And what are we going to do, burst in and demand they stop making the tea?"

"Hey, best plan's improvisation," he answered as he burst through a side door and climbed yet more stairs. At last, they'd reached their destination.

"Alright, John. We're here, time for some improv," Donna teased.

"Hmm…" He ran a hand over the robotic arms they'd seen in the video during their previous visit. "There doesn't seem to be a way to tamper with these things from the outside. They're sealed up pretty well." He also tried to sonic the computer in the adjacent control room, to no avail. Whoever worked here had taken precautions against the Doctor's possible arrival.

"So, your glow stick thingy isn't helping. What else can we do?" Donna asked.

The Doctor held his tongue back from lashing out at her woefully ignorant comment, then put on a dangerous smile. "We can make things go boom." From his coat pocket, he produced more sticks of dynamite and a couple of small remote mines.

"You aren't gonna get us blown to bits, are you?" Donna frowned. Normally, she would've questioned what the hell a freelance writer was doing carrying explosives, but normal was on an extended vacation at the moment.

"No, these don't do a ton of damage. Only way you'll have any chance of getting hurt is if you're more or less on top of the thing. They do a number on electric hardware, though."

"Okay. So we can destroy whatever they're using to make the tea. Won't they have more of whatever is actually in it, though? Like, another batch of chemicals for it?"

"Yeah. Time to start searching!" the Doctor declared. He went back in the control room and began yanking open cabinets and desk drawers at random, hoping he could find…

"_You don't even have a clue what you're looking for, do you?" _He asked himself.

"_Nope, fresh out of clues today." _

Luckily, in the cabinet in the left corner of the room, he discovered several tubs filled with a silver, gooey substance that faintly reeked of metal.

"_I'm gonna say that's not supposed to go in tea." _He decided to play it safe and just toss one stick of dynamite in-he didn't want to worry about a chemical reaction causing the whole place to blow up-when Donna called out, "A little help over here, please! Your sticky mine doesn't stick." He tried to place the thing on the tea brewing instrument, but it simply slid off. "Weird," he muttered. "Maybe I can try putting it IN the machine?" He soniced the robotic arm, and a vent slid open, triggering an alarm: ALERT! ALERT! HARDWARE IN THE REPRODUCTION ROOM HAS BEEN DISTURBED!

"Well done, John!" Donna snapped. _"So like a man. Just too damn eager to stick his toy into a hole."_

"Hopefully there's no one around today, what with the press conference-"

And in stepped Mr. Cam Bryen himself, along with several of his staff members.

"Stop what you are doing," they commanded.

"Or what?" Donna retorted.

Lasers played tag on the pair's foreheads.

Two of the men and Bryen dragged the Doctor into the control room, while two women sat watch over Donna. She reached out an arm for him and found herself handcuffed to the equipment for her trouble.

"Let her go," the Doctor growled.

Bryen clucked his tongue and smartly reached into the Time Lord's front pocket. He grabbed the sonic screwdriver, placed it on the desk, and had his men sit the Doctor down against the wall. "Still got that temper, Doctor? And I imagine being with her," indicating Donna, "hasn't helped it much."

He refused to rise to the bait.

Bryen fixed him with a steely glare. "Doctor. You cannot stop the Cybermen. You will be upgraded."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that whole spiel, don't bother." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "I'm more curious about how you did all this. Synthetic Cybermen. Quite bright, really. Make humans more productive, a bit more like each other, and a tad too happy. It's weird, certainly, but not something that too many people are going to look into," he continued, sounding like a bookish fanatic explaining a history museum's artifacts to its own guides. They're gonna be pleased that more work's getting done and dismiss any possible second thoughts. Playing on the human condition. And putting it in tea, now that was the really brilliant move, cause that's where you get mass consumption. Well done, Bryen." He considered something else. "And I hope this doesn't sound rude, but how can you go about giving speeches and interviews without people catching on?"

He responded, "I contain enough human qualities to pass off as an ordinary member of society. Once the takeover is complete, I will be fully upgraded." His mechanical voice trampled his boring monotone. "I will be one of the first models of the new version of Cybermen. I will possess an abundance of a single human quality: Cruelty. I will demonstrate it now." He spoke over the intercom to the two women by Donna. "Begin the test." They began rattling off facts. "You are Donna Noble. You were a companion to the Doctor from Gallifrey. You are…"

Their voices died under Donna's cries. "No! I don't know what you're talking about…it hurts! John…HELP ME!"

"DONNA!" What wouldn't he give to tap into her mind and rewire it so all the pain would be transmitted to him. They could kill him, murder every regeneration, as long as they didn't hurt her.

"We will systematically overload her brain until she is on the brink of death. You will then have the opportunity to save her. You will fail. You will learn that Cybermen are superior to humans. You will beg to become one of us."

The women called out over the intercom, "The human's life force is nearly gone."

Bryen showed the Doctor a grin straight from hell. "Go and try to save her. Prove that your emotion is superior to our logic."

Barely able to walk, he struggled out to where the redhead lay unconscious. Pain thrashed everywhere. "Remember, this is your fault," Bryen gloated over the speaker system. "Her blood is on your hands."

The Doctor collapsed and crawled next to his best friend's prone body.

"Go on," Bryen jeered. "Prove that our upgrades are worthless."

The Doctor placed a shaking hand on Donna's forehead, a raging inferno. He could practically feel her memories threatening to erupt out her skull.

_CRACK_

Wedding white dress every girl's dream including hers no it wasn't, not this one, wedding is a dream, fiancé is a nightmare. Too manufactured, Lance didn't dig her, she snorted, course he did, why else would he marry her? Pity, nah that was stupid, pity she hadn't met that John Smith guy earlier wait why the bloody hell did that thought get in here

_CRACK_

"Donna? It's me, John." Her breathing got a bit easier. "I'm…I'm so sorry you're like this right now," he continued, half praying he'd die. "I…just couldn't stay away from you." He smiled and wiped a tear away. "It's funny…I remember thinking you'd left, and then you said you were just gone for a bit to see your family, I was an idiot, course you were coming back."

_CRACK_

Diet pills, people vanishing, fat white marshmallows on the loose, orphans, floating in the sky, meeting Sunshine again, blue box, tons of luggage space, perfect, not like what she had at home, it was her home, why would she ever stay away for long? She needed to get back there

_CRACK_

Her eyes fluttered a bit. He didn't notice. "So, here we are, back together. So I'm gonna tell you a story while you're…asleep. Don't think you've heard it before, but it's all about this girl, Donna. Weird that she has your name, really. I just met her…

_CRACK_

Stories. She got to hear a lot about him, the madman in the box, used to be a bit stronger, bigger, older apparently. Shrank down to a drink of water now, just her luck. Stories about other planets, other creatures, other girls…Martha, doctor Martha, helpful Martha. Rose. Pretty as a flower Rose, loving Rose, oh boo hoo I miss my Rose, oh my god I'm sick of hearing about this Rose. I'm jealous, nope, jealousy, what is that? Not connected to him, oh another girl named Donna, bet she's better than me, who isn't, I should listen, not doing so would be rude…

_CRACK _

"She's…interesting. Smarter than she thinks." He mentally slapped himself. _"You're trying to save her life, keep those old memories from burning her up? Get specific!" _Not hard when he had such a vested interested in the topic of discussion. "She's spunky, but she has a really caring side once you get to know her. She slaps me a bit too often, but a lot of times I deserve it. I love seeing her eyes light up when she feels passionate about something, which is nearly all the time. Her driving's not that great, but I've survived it more times than she knows. She's conditioned to yell to get her point across…"

_CRACK_

Lots of yelling. HOLD ON, I AM! Oi, Spaceman, dumbo, Timeboy, whatever you are, GET YOUR BLEEDIN HANDS OFF ME! Course she had to yell, who listened, even John ignored her sometimes OI THAT'S NOT A DATE he'd lied through his teeth, saying he was fine with that, just like the man in the blue suit, he _was _the man in the blue suit…

He needed help. So did she. But he needed help first, he needed the brighter shade of blue to come in, she'd seen the black swarm before he did. She reached for the blue. She could get it, it was inches from her hand. She stretched…

_CRACK_

"She's just brilliant. Knows me practically as well as I know myself," he concluded quietly.

Bryen's voice boomed from the speaker. "Doctor. Your time is up. Prepare for her to be deleted."

"NO!" He yelled, shielding her. "Give me more time! Just a few more seconds…"

"That was all I needed, thanks," a voice murmured under him. Donna slammed her hand down on the light blue "5 Second Activation" button on the mine. The Doctor rolled her as far away from the machine as he could and stayed on top of her.

Bryen stepped forward. "There is no stopping u-"

BOOM.

Bryen and the four workers who had come up to surround him were blown straight back into the wall. Donna's handcuffs snapped from the pressure, and she and John flew to the left. He managed to flip Donna over so he absorbed the entire blow of landing on his back.

"Donna?" She'd passed out again. Grim fury held him tight to her breast. The Doctor slowly dragged the tea company employees into the control room and propped them up against the supply room door. He wedged it open, tossed in a few more sticks of dynamite and a lit match, and limped out. He ignored the heat of the explosion. His attention only belonged to Donna now. Somehow, he found the strength to carry her out the back of the building to her car-He really hoped this wouldn't become a norm with his friends-and laid her across the back seat. _"Of all the times to not fly the TARDIS somewhere…"_ He put his self loathing to the side. He'd have time for that later…perhaps too much.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

He drove Donna's sedan back to the TARDIS. _"Didn't crash. Went a bit too fast. Got the police after me," _he thought. _"So things are normal."_ He carried Donna in and got the ship in the air before the police could be more irritating than usual. The TARDIS gave a judging hiss as it cut through the wind. "Save it!" he shouted. "Take us to the Ood sphere." The ship complied. Donna needed more healing power than what he or the TARDIS could provide. He'd gotten some of her bruises and cuts from the explosion taken care of, but until she woke up, he couldn't run a proper diagnosis.

As the TARDIS materialized, he heard the song. Their song. But it was out of tune. Almost immediately, several Ood had flocked to the blue box, including Ood Sigma. "Hello, Doctor," he greeted. "What's wrong?"

"This." The Doctor was carrying Donna. The song gained an even more melancholy strain. "I know it's asking a lot, but if you could even just try to do something for her…"

"Of course. Bring her to our medical station." He laid her down on a long, narrow bed. "What exactly is the matter with her?" Ood Sigma asked.

"It's her mind. It's a really long story, but I had to wipe her memories of me to save her life. She'd turned into a meta crisis, see…"

"A meta crisis? Can you explain more, please? The more we know about her condition, the better we can treat her."

"She got hold of information her brain couldn't process. It would have killed her So, to save her, I had to remove her memories. But she's been remembering them, in bits and pieces, by accident. They give her headaches, and if she recalls a lot of information at once, they overwhelm her body. Someone else just forced a lot of remembering on her, that's why she's in this state."

"I see. Well, our medics shall set up a circle of healing. We will notify you when you can come back in."

The minute hand on his watch had to be submerged in quicksand. There was no way it had only been a minute. "_Darn explosion must have broken it," _he lied to himself. He looked at the clock on the wall. Yep. One minute felt like an hour. Ten minutes later, Ood Sigma returned, looking fairly pleased.

"We've placed her in a deep recovery sleep for now. She should wake up in about a half hour or so. Don't worry, the cold will not affect her."

"Alright. How are her memories?" he dared to ask.

"Sadly, we cannot be sure what has happened there. We can assure you that the headaches you spoke of will not return." The Ood added, "Rest assured, if her previous memories have been restored, she will be more than capable of informing you herself."

"Okay. Thank you so much."

"Of course," he bowed. "Anything for the DoctorDonna. We remain in your debt."

He stopped. "No, you don't. Consider us even."

"You have done the Ood a great kindness, Doctor."

"As have you for me," the Doctor called back.

He returned to the TARDIS. And hoped. And waited. And wondered.

Donna Noble woke up and found herself on a dark green couch, covered by a warm, vanilla bean colored quilt. A tea kettle whistled cheerfully in the background, making a not so quiet effort to ward off the chill of the early fall evening. John walked in, carrying a mug of tea (homemade) for Donna, along with a bowl of French onion soup and a grilled chicken panini. "Hey John?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"This is gonna sound crazy, but how did I end up sleeping here?"

"After everything that happened at Bryen's factory, you graciously drove me home, wanted to take a look around my place, and were so tired that you keeled over."

She clapped a hand to her mouth. "God, I am so sorry! That's so embarrassing, really, I'll just get going-"

He forced her to sit back down. "Look, it's fine. You needed the rest, and I wasn't gonna have you crash your car. I phoned your mum, told her you got stuck on overtime. So here, eat. I would have asked what you liked," he apologized, "But I didn't want you to have to wait for the food, and I was feeling peckish myself." They moved to the small wood table in the kitchen.

The first few bites she had sent her on an elevator to heaven. "Everything is delicious! How'd you learn to cook like this, John? No offense, but most men can barely survive making toast."

He laughed. "Same as everyone else, practice and help from anyone who's willing to offer it."

They munched in silence for a few minutes before another question popped into her head. "So, what happened with Bryen's office?" She frowned. "I remember going there, and then the rest is just a blur."

His hearts nearly cracked. "_She doesn't remember…"_

"_Course not, you idiot! Do you remember things when you're unconscious?" _"Err…it was crazy, really. There was some big explosion. People are speculating that Bryen was a bit off in the head."

"Ah." The two of them had made quick work of the food, and the Doctor wished he'd had the foresight to make dessert, just so she'd stay longer. Instead, he found him helping Donna get her coat on.

"Bye, John." She hugged him. "Will you be around Chiswick much longer, then?"

"No, I think I've got to spend some time at home. Got some work I can't ignore there."

_Damn. _"Well, then, you'll need something special to remember this English girl, won't you?" she purred.

"Absolutely," he whispered just before happily receiving the most crushing goodbye kiss of his life.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" Donna asked. "And look me up if you ever find yourself round here again."

"Will do," he promised, then smiled. "And you take care of yourself, too. Not all "aliens" are quite as nice as me, you know."

"_Bet they aren't as cute, either." _She grinned. "I know, but thanks for the heads up."

"Well, goodbye, Donna Noble."

"Goodbye, John Smith."

She left but still craved another kiss. _"Eh, why ruin that perfectly good one? End on a high note," _she decided. She suddenly smiled at his odd diction. Weird words from a weird man.

"_Well, it's true," _she thought to herself. "_He isn't from around here, so he is technically an alien._"

_Click_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Donna's jaw hit the floor.

"_I'm right. I DO know he's an alien," _she thought wildly. The memories that had previously assaulted her at high speeds now played slowly. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the last time she'd been with the Doctor.

"_Oh, you are SO busted, Timeboy."_

She turned back and knocked on the blue box.

"Er, who's there?" he yelled.

"It's me, John."

He was surprised the perception filter had held out so long.

"So, back again?" he asked with a smile.

She smiled back, pretending everything was fine. "Yeah…See, I just wanted to let you know that-" Soft grin. Step.

"You are-" Another step closer. A wider smile. He was already banking on another kiss.

WHAP!

"A BLOODY POMPOUS ARSE OF A TIME LORD!" Donna screeched. "Oi, where's the kitchen?"

The Doctor was paralyzed, unable to even stammer anything. The TARDIS, meanwhile, was only too happy to help Donna, and whirled around so that she was only two steps away from where she wanted to go. The redhead looked up with a smile. "Thank you, dear. Us girls have to stick together against DUMBO ALIENS." She stalked into the kitchen.

"Donna…what are you doing?" Still too stunned to move.

"I'm thinking about whacking you over the head with a saucepan and hand delivering one of those god awful migraines to you, that's what I'm doing!" she yelled. "You ever stop and think of getting medicine off the TARDIS for me, you prat? Oh wait, no, that would require common sense, something I bloody well know you don't have!"

"I didn't want to trigger any memories-" he began.

"You flippin told me your apartment was bigger on the inside, Sunshine!" she warned.

"That was a mistake-"

"That rounds it up to about, let's see, an even hundred thousand since I've met you, then."

He recalled what Ood Sigma had told him: "_If her previous memories have been restored, she will be more than capable of informing you herself." _

"_Yeah, I'd say she's informing you." _

Donna gave a mighty sigh when she saw just how confused the Doctor was. "You don't even know why I'm so angry right now, do you?"

"I feel like there's more than one reason." He slid around to the other side of the console, well out of the range of the saucepan.

"You're less hopeless then some other men I've been with, I'll give ya that," she said begrudgingly. "Well, I'll tell you." She shot him a warning glance and turned the pan over in her hand. "But you give more than a few peeps-I know you won't be able to keep quiet the whole time-and…"

"Okay, yes, understood. Completely understood." He nodded at least ten times, feeling like a bobblehead.

"Where to start…Oh, I know, how bout when you SENT ME BACK?!" She yelled. "You KNEW I didn't want to go, made it perfectly clear what I wanted, but NO, the Time Lord always knows better, doesn't he? This after, of course, I drunkenly spill my guts to you and make a complete fool out of myself-"

"It's fi-"

She jabbed a finger at him. "Shut it, there's more. Where was I? Oh, right, I was a total idiot, but I thought, 'It's fine, he got over Rose, he can get over you no problem. It's off your chest now.' Then I get sent back, Mum's generally horrible, work sucks, and I have the pleasure of meeting you again, which would've been perfectly lovely except for those two or three little incidents when I NEARLY DIED-"

"I'm sor-"

"Don't want to hear it, still going." She put a hand up. "And now, for whatever stupid reason, you've brought me back. I think you did really go off the deep end, since I'm either gonna burn up again now I've remembered everything or you'll just send me home and I'll forget it all." She plopped herself down at the console. "So, got anything to say?"

"I can talk now? Just wanted to be sure."

Try as she might, Donna couldn't keep a smile from peeking out. "Yeah, start talking before I change my mind and bash you into next week with some kitchen supplies."

"D'you remember how, right before I sent you back, we decided to be together forever?"

"Yeah, cause forever was only gonna be a half hour, before someone decided to ignore me," she replied hotly.

"Donna…" He sighed. "Much as I'd like to apologize for doing that, I can't. I sent you back cause I thought there was an outside chance that I could get you back forever."

She frowned. "I'm either a meta crisis or a human, spaceman. There IS no forever for us."

He wiggled a finger. "See, I'm not so sure about that. Want to hear a theory?"

"Where's the TARDIS?"

He shrugged. "She took off and has been floating around somewhere in outer space since after you got on. Old girl goes where she likes sometimes."

"Well, guess I don't have a choice," she grumbled. "Okay, out with it."

"You remember how you handled the Daleks? How you were fine?"

"Hey, give me some credit here, Spaceman, I was more than fine, I-"

"You were beyond brilliant," he finished. Despite her anger at the alien, she still blushed at the compliment. "And that got me to thinking…maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to handle the memories if you collected them at your own pace. And I knew it would kill Wilf if you didn't come back. So that's why I didn't let you die here."

"What, you set me up?" she demanded to know, sparks flying out her eyes.

He chanced stepping around the console. He needed to be closer to her. "No. I wasn't planning on going back to you. The TARDIS flew me to Chiswick about two weeks after you left. I made her leave. Didn't want to risk it. Once the whole thing with Bryen started, she insisted I go investigate." He sat down next to her.

She couldn't believe it, but now that she thought about it…he hadn't been the first one to initiate anything. "I tried to talk to you," she murmured. "I threw that airplane at you."

"Work on your aim a bit with those, if you don't mind," he gently rebuked her.

She slapped his arm. "Shut it, you."

"So for once, I guessed right. Some tiny bit of you remembered. Some part of you wanted to get back. If you hadn't done anything, I wouldn't have said a word to you."

"Alright, so what?" She was suddenly leaning awfully close to her friend. "So I remembered. Won't stop me from burning up."

"No. Strange thing happened," he breathed, risking putting a hand over hers on the table. She didn't move it. "You know those headaches you got, how it felt like there were two different parts of you talking?"

"Yeah, don't remind me," she shuddered. "Horrible, that was."

"Those memories were stored in the meta crisis part of your mind, the Time Lord part," he continued. "When you had those really bad headaches, that was your mind shifting, moving them out of that part and into your own human mind. You had a really bad headache because Bryen forced those memories on you. He was trying to mock humans and prove Cybermen were superior by showing that I couldn't save you."

She tilted her head. "Still not getting the point, exactly. It might make sense to you, but it doesn't to me."

He hurried on. "Okay, well, after that, I took you to the Ood sphere, and they helped you a lot more than I ever could. And as I was leaving, Ood Sigma told me this: The meta crisis wasn't reversed, not completely. The Time Lord part of your brain? They couldn't get rid of it. It's not going to kill you, it's not active, but some of its properties have been transferred to you."

"Which means what, exactly? I'm gonna turn into a skinny, annoying prat?"

Despite the joke, he grinned. "No, let me show you." He led her to the doors of the TARDIS. He nodded at them. "Go on, open 'em up. You know how it's done."

She laughed. "What, me, open the TARDIS? I can't, Doctor, you know that."

"Go on, try it," he grinned.

"You're just humoring me before I have to leave again," she dismissed his idea. "You're gonna snap your fingers at the same time I do mine and try to make me feel like I'm special."

"No, I'm not."

"Alright, then, hands out, apart, where I can see them," she commanded. He complied.

"I really don't know why you're having me do this," she insisted. "Just making a fool out of me again-"

"Donna, just humor the Time Lord, please."

She shot him a look. "Only cause you said please." She snapped her fingers. The Aurora Borealis, possibly her favorite sight in space, greeted her. The redhead was at a complete loss for words.

"_Fantastic touch, taking us here, old girl," _the Doctor silently thanked the TARDIS.

He slipped an arm around Donna. "So…does it make sense now?"

She couldn't say it, didn't want to say it, didn't want to believe it. It was everything she'd come to want, so naturally, it would escape her…

"Me. You. The Doctor and Donna. Spaceman and Earthgirl. Forever."

Half of what she wanted. No way she'd get the other half. _"Don't get greedy, don't get greedy…" _She decided to ruin things anyway, daring to move in for a kiss, just a little one. And it started out as that. And then the Doctor kept kissing her. She reluctantly pulled away. "Doctor, we can't do this," she whispered. "I…It's not me you want, it's Rose, it's always been Rose. And if things are gonna be weird between us, after the "just mates" thing, I can leave."

He stared into her eyes and got lost in the pain. He was stunned, she actually believed what she was saying. "Donna Noble…" he whispered, holding her close to him, not knowing where to put his hands. He wanted to soothe every inch of her. "You are so very smart, how on earth couldn't you see that I'm crazy about you? You've saved my life twice over. You've pulled me back from the edge, from reverting back into a monster. You are the only person that doesn't make me cringe when they say forever, because it doesn't sound all that bad with you." He saw the light springing out her eyes. She was actually trusting him. "Doesn't matter if I'm John Smith, the Doctor, Spaceman, Timeboy, or Dumbo, I will always love you," he finished.

For the first time ever, they both had everything they wanted. Their doubts as to whether or not they wanted each other as deeply as they said melted like birthday candles under the heat of their kisses.

"I…"

"You…"

Forget words, they had those, had used them before. Kisses were a newly discovered and much more valuable means of communication. They looked at each other for a second, simply radiating in shared contentment.

"Much as I love this," Donna gasped as the Doctor dropped a barrage of kisses on her neck, "I really need to be getting home before…" She smiled. "Whatever adventure comes next?"

"Now, Donna?" he whined.

"Yes, now." She whispered in his ear, "I'll make the wait worth it, promise."

"Alright," he pouted. "What do you need to do?"

"Get luggage, obviously." _Does he ever think of the important things?_ "Oh, and I'll have to tell Mum and Gramps I'm leaving." A wicked grin split her face. "And I think you should stop in."

"I'm not sure that's a great idea, Sylvia's not my biggest fan."

"I know, that's exactly why I want you there." A grin popped up on his face as she revealed her plan.

"Donna Noble, you are one bad Time Lady."

She leaned into him, still felt her skin jump at the thrill of those words. "And?"

He kissed her. "I wouldn't have you any other way."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review this little fic. And an especially huge thank you/shout out/internet high five is in order for dm1. Thank you so much for all the reviews, suggestions, critiques, etc. that helped me develop quite a few parts of this story._

The Doctor landed the TARDIS dead in front of Donna's house. "Alright, I'll be back in a few," she promised. For once, she hoped desperately that Sylvia would be home. She wasn't disappointed. "Donna, what are you doing out so late? You can't have been stuck at work that long." Even the ever present disapproving glare couldn't keep the redhead down. "You're right, mum," she replied airily. "Well, partially. I was at work, and then went over to John's for dinner. He's a fantastic cook."

"Who's John?" Sylvia sniffed the air suspiciously, as if she might pick up on the scent of the newest bum her daughter was going around with.

"He's…not exactly my boyfriend. We just started seeing each other more seriously today," Donna confessed. "He's a doctor, an absolutely brilliant one. You'd think he's got two hearts, he's so kind. And he's foreign, and pretty cute, too."

"Sounds too good to be true…so what's wrong with him?" Sylvia asked brusquely.

Donna calmly held her ground. "Well, sometimes he gets too caught up in his work and takes it out on himself if he can't help someone as much as he'd like. And if he sees someone being mistreated, he can get a bit upset, and makes a situation worse, rather than better. But I can usually keep him in check."

Sylvia gazed at her daughter with wonder. "Well, I'll be. You might not have done so bad for yourself this time. So when can I meet him? And does this John have any older family that might like to give me some company?

Donna nearly keeled over from laughing. "Yeah, he said he wanted to have a chat with you, he's out parking his car. And no, he doesn't, Mum. I don't think they'd quite be your type, honestly."

"Well, bring him in."

Biting her cheeks raw to keep from cracking up, Donna ran outside and knocked on the TARDIS door. "Sylvia wants to meet John. She's quite enamored of you, by the way."

He grinned and followed Donna back to the front door. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. Just sort of rearranged the truth," she smiled back.

"Mum, this is John. John, this is my mum, Sylvia."

Sylvia recoiled, stumbling back in horror. "No," she whispered, appraising her daughter's face with wild eyes. "Not…not that ALIEN!"

"Yep." Donna answered with a serene smile.

"No." She repeated the word, as if denying the relationship would exterminate it.

"Fraid so," the Doctor smiled sympathetically.

"But…but WHY HIM?" Sylvia wailed.

"All the reasons I just listed for you." Sylvia looked on the verge of tears. "Mum, look," Donna told her quietly. "You're the one who's always saying I should be making something of myself, that I could be more than a temp if I wanted. I am. When I'm with him."

"So…you really want this?" Sylvia asked.

"Yes."

"Alright…I'm not happy about it, but you've done worse before. Just be careful, okay?"

"Course, Mum," Donna lied.

"So…you'll be off, doing whatever, then?"

"Yep."

"You should wait for your grandfather, he'd want to see you off."

"It's fine, I bet we can find him." Donna and the Doctor walked through the house and made their way to the backyard.

"So…your mum's coming round then?" he asked.

"Yeah. The whole 'You've fucked up worse before' thing is her version of 'Congratulations, I'm so happy for you!'" Donna laughed.

Wilf, per usual, had his eye glued to his telescope. "Hey, Gramps. An old friend's here to see you," Donna greeted him.

Her grandfather looked up in wonder. "It's…it's you!" he exclaimed.

"Good to see ya, Wilf." The old man threatened to wring the Doctor's arm off with an enthusiastic handshake. "So you must be…" he turned eagerly to Donna.

"Back," she answered simply.

"And that is marvelous." Wilf smiled tearfully and hugged his granddaughter. "Bring some stars back for me, love. And come visit, if it's not too much trouble."

"You know I will." She hugged him tight and retreated back to the house. "I've got some stuff to pack, Doctor. Meet you by the TARDIS!"

Wilf eyed the Time Lord. "Got enough room for all her crap?"

"Yeah. Thank God for nearly unlimited closet space." He rolled his eyes. "So, want to see us off?"

"Sure." The pair cut back through the house to find Donna hauling multiple suitcases to the curb. "I could use some help, Doctor!" she called.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Wilf put a hand on his shoulder and stopped the Time Lord, looking up at him. "She's an amazing girl, Doctor. Don't forget to tell her from time to time."

"I won't, you can count on it."

"Don't spoil her too much, though-She's got the sights, the adventures…" He gave the Doctor a sly look- "You. She doesn't need much more than that."

"How'd you-"

"I wasn't born yesterday, a blind man could see what you two have," Wilf answered, his sass sounding eerily similar to his granddaughter's.

"Oi! Gramps! He doesn't spoil me _enough," _she complained. "Do we ever go to a mall? No. Ever go on a nice peaceful vacation? No. Ever visit any fancy restaurants? No…"

"Donna, give the poor man a break."

"_Thank you," _he mouthed to Wilf.

"Alright…that's the last of your stuff, is it?" the Doctor asked as he shut the doors.

"Yeah. Oh, just one more goodbye!" She rushed out and gave her grandfather a bear hug. "I'll miss you," she whispered.

"Miss you too, sweetie."

The Doctor came out and shook hands with Wilf. The two nodded understandingly at each other. Even Sylvia proved brave enough to come outside.

"You still wanna do this?" the Doctor asked Donna. "Isn't your mum gonna freak?"

She shrugged. "It's not like she handles anything particularly well. I could use a good laugh."

The pair retreated to the TARDIS doors, and Donna announced, "So, I've got a bit of a surprise for you two." She smirked, snapped her fingers, and backpedaled coolly into the box with her favorite spaceman. They were slowly ascending into the sky before they heard Wilf's cheering, which was soon overpowered by another of Sylvia's screams. "NO!"

"Yes! I'm Donna Noble, Time Lady. Ain't that wizard?" Donna crowed happily, then yelled, "See you at Thanksgiving!" She snapped her fingers again, and the doors shut.

The Doctor had sat down at the console and kicked his feet up. "So…we've got all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere to explore." He looked over at Donna. "You wouldn't want to start at a stuffy old mall, would you?" She squealed in delight, rushed over to the chair, and kissed him on the cheek. "You are the best," she said affectionately.

"Duh. Course I am. I got you."


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue

"So, what mall are you taking me to, Doctor?"

"It's a surprise," he teased.

"Better be a good one for once," she grumbled.

"You will love it," he promised, smiling.

The ship landed. "I swear, if we're on some uninhabitable planet, I will slap you." The pair stepped outside and looked around. "Where are we? Or, more importantly, when are we?" Donna asked.

"London, about two years in the future."

"Oh, I'm going to be so fashion forward!" Donna clapped her hands. "Now, where's the mall?"

"Just down the block. I don't think it's one you've heard of before," the Doctor joked.

They kept walking. Donna stared wistfully into the windows of Harrods. _"Oh, come off it, Earthgirl. No one in his right mind would take you in there, not unless they'd just won a bloody lottery." _

The Doctor followed her gaze and smiled to himself. _"She is in for such a treat."_

He looked up and frowned. "Hang on, I think we've passed it."

"Do you _ever_ know where you're going?" Donna asked exasperatedly.

"Today, I do. Let's see, not this shop, but…ah, here we are." He stopped in front of Harrods.

Donna slowly turned and looked at him. "No!"

He nodded. "Yes."

"This is _the _Harrods? We aren't on some alternate Earth where this is just an average shop?" she asked dumbly. Just to make sure they were on the same page.

"The one and only. And really, it is the only one, they got exclusive copyright on it or something. There isn't another Harrods anywhere." He gestured to the door. "After you."

She dashed in, trying to take in everything at once, before bolting for an elevator. "Meet you upstairs!" she yelled.

He should have known better than to let Donna in the store without a firm grip on her hand. "Don't buy out the whole floor before I get there, okay?"

He found Donna pretty easily. She was standing still as a mannequin, drinking in the sight of one of the most amazing stores on Earth. He snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear, "What's a gorgeous thing like you doing all alone here?"

She nearly jumped out her skin. "Bloody hell, Doctor. Don't do that!"

He grinned. "Sorry, couldn't resist. So, what are you planning on buying?"

"Well, I could use a new sweater, and maybe a couple dresses," she mused. "Oh, and some boots would be nice for the winter, and I could do with a new pair of jeans…"

He rolled his eyes. "Forget I asked. And, I'm sorry to burst your good mood, but I don't want to spend all day in here."

"Alright, alright, Mr. grumpy pants," she swatted his arm. "Don't worry, I won't be too terribly long." She walked off towards the sweaters, then paused. "Oh, and I might buy you a new suit, Lord knows you need it."

"Donna, I don't need one," he protested.

She gave him a critical once over. "Mm…yeah, ya do, trust me."

"I've got more in…at home!" he called back.

"Sure you do, dear," she called back sarcastically. He distinctly heard the words "_stubborn alien" _and "_no fashion sense" _come from the redhead's direction as she went off to make her selections.

The Doctor, meanwhile, decided that he owed her another surprise. He wasn't generally big on gift giving, but…well, it was Donna. What to get her, though? Jewelry or perfume seemed a bit much. Chocolate was always a good route, but that struck him as a tad underwhelming. He wandered over a bit closer to her. His gaze fell on a bright blue sundress.

"_I feel like the color suits her."_

"_When did you become the fashion expert?" _Granted, she'd probably find a million things wrong with it, but…it was worth a try, he decided. He found a salesperson cleaning up a display case right next to the dress.

"Um, excuse me," he butted in politely. "But could you go to the redhead over there and suggest she try this on?"

"Sure thing, love," the woman smiled.

Donna had, by now, acquired the boots, jeans, and sweater she'd been looking for, but couldn't find a dress she liked.

"Excuse me, miss?" A store employee spoke from behind her. "Are you still looking for dresses?"

"Yes. I'm having trouble finding one I like, though," Donna frowned, indicating the two she'd already tried on.

"May I suggest you try this one? I think it would go beautifully with your hair and fair skin."

"Thanks, I will." Blushing scarlet at the compliment, Donna found her way to the nearest dressing room. She looked over the dress again. "_Looks more like a spring or summer thing than a fall outfit. Eh, it's not like you'll be stuck with Chiswick's weather all the time, though," _she reasoned. _"Might as well try it on." _She slipped it on and looked in the mirror.

"_Whoa." _Dressing rooms usually weren't overly friendly to Donna. Hell, they were downright hostile to her body most of the time. But this dress…she turned around a few times, examining every angle. No doubt about it: It did make her pale skin radiate like moonlight, rather than make her look sickly, as most other light blue colors did. And yes, the contrast between her hair and the dress was striking, like the difference between fire and ice. The saleswoman had failed to mention, however, that the knee length dress made her legs look like they went on for miles. It hugged her contours like an understanding lover, rendering them flawless as a schoolteacher's cursive. She walked around the store for a few minutes, trying to locate the angel who'd given her the dress. "Hey, you were right, that dress is marvelous. Thank you so much."

The woman smiled. "Oh, don't thank me. Your boyfriend picked it out. Bless him, he wanted to surprise you, I think." She pointed over to the Doctor, who was trying on a forest green tie.

"Oh, no, no, no, he…" Habit nearly made her say, _"He's not my boyfriend." _She laughed gently to herself. _"Yeah, right._"

"He couldn't have." Donna fixed her sentence. "I mean, I love him to death, but he's not the brightest when it comes to fashion."

The worker grinned. "Maybe he's got a better eye than you think. Can I take this up to checkout, dear, or did you want to continue shopping?"

"Umm…" She did want to keep looking, but the Doctor was undoubtedly restless and terribly bored by now. "Yeah, I need to get going." She met up with the Time Lord.

"We need to do this more often," Donna remarked happily. "Oh, I nearly forgot, I wanted to check the price of some heels, maybe do an online order later." She dashed off to the shoe section.

The Doctor groaned as the bill steadily climbed. "Don't even tell me what it is," he said, handing a card to the clerk.

"Alright." She smiled. "Your girlfriend is in love with that dress, by the way. You've got good taste."

"Really, you think…" He nearly said, "_You think we're dating?" _The denial had become a ritual over the past year with Donna, but he was more than happy to expunge it from his memory. "You think she likes it?"

She nodded. "Yes. More than you know. Have a great day, sir."

"Thanks, you too." He retrieved Donna.

"Come on."

"Oh, can't we just stay here and go to the food court for lunch?" she suggested.

"We've got food in the TARDIS…and if we go back, I'll let you pick where we go next," he promised, then tacked on a revision: "No other malls, though."

"Deal," she agreed. Then: "So, did that saleslady ask you…"

"If we were together?" he finished, then grinned and reached out for Donna's hand. She weaved her fingers in between his. "Yeah, I led her to believe I can tolerate your company."

"Like it's easy putting up with you?" she retorted. He opened his mouth, ready to reply. "Shut up, spaceman." Donna cut him off.

He stuck his tongue out. "Make me, earth girl."

"If you insist." She kissed him as a flock of teenagers were walking by.

"Eww. Old couple PDA, gross!"

"Get it, dude!" one of them yelled. One of the girls in the group slapped him.

"Don't you dare laugh at that," Donna warned, though she herself was struggling to keep a disapproving glower on her face. Instead, the Time Lord turned around and yelled, "Hey, let an old timer give you some advice. If a girl slaps you, don't let her get away, chances are she likes you!"

They heard the girl's reply: "No way, I SO do not like him!"

"Liar," Donna muttered under her breath, grinning.

"You're terrible."

"So are you."

"I love it."

"Me too."

_P.S: I may write a one shot continuation for this story at some point, if anyone would be interested in reading that._


End file.
